“What is that? What is that? Speak!”
“Who? What? Where?” said the child. “What is the matter with you?”
“Here. That name. Who wrote that?”
And his finger stopped under this double line.
ΜΕΛΙΤΤΑ .Λ. ΧΡΥΣΙΔΑ
ΧΡΥΣΙΣ .Λ. ΜΕΛΙΤΤΑΝ
“Ah!” she answered, “that’s me. I wrote that.”
“Who is she, Chrysis?”
“My great friend.”
“I dare say. That is not what I ask you. Which Chrysis? There are many.”
“Mine, the most beautiful. Chrysis of Galilee.”