“You know her! you know her! But speak, speak! Where does she come from? where does she live? who is her lover? tell me everything!”
He sat down upon the couch and took the little girl upon his knees.
“You are in love, then?” she said.
“That matters little to you. Tell me what you know; I am in a hurry to hear everything.”
“Oh! I know nothing at all. It is quite short. She has been to see me twice, and you may imagine that I have not asked her for details about her family. I was too happy to have her, and I did not lose time in conversation.”
“How is she made?”
“Like a pretty girl, what do you expect me to say? Do you want me to name all the parts of her body, adding that everything is beautiful? And then, she is a woman, a real woman . . . Every time I think about her I desire somebody.”
And she put her arm round the neck of Demetrios.
“Don’t you know anything about her?” he began again.