“You wanted to see somebody?”
“Yes . . . perhaps . . . I think perhaps it is as well I have not seen him. Yes, it is as well. I was wrong to come back; I could not restrain myself.”
“But what is the matter? Do tell us, Chrysis.”
“Oh, no.”
“Not even us? Not even us, your little friends?”
“You shall know later on, together with the whole town.”
“It is very amiable of you.”
“You shall know a little before, if you really want to; but this morning it is impossible. Extraordinary things are happening, my dears. I am dying to tell you, but I must hold my tongue. You were going home? Come and sleep with me, I am quite alone.”
“Oh, Chrysis, Chrysidion, we are so tired! We are going home certainly, but to have a good sleep.”
“Well, you can sleep afterwards. To-day is the eve of the Aphrodisiæ. Is it a day for rest? If you want the goddess to protect you and to make you happy next year you must enter her temple with eyelids dark as violets and cheeks white as lilies. We will see to that; come with me.”