“No. I’m going to let you find it out for yourself.”
“But if I can’t?”
“You will.”
They set off, about ten, down the hill on foot. The morning was very still and already very hot. As they descended towards the basin in which lies Olympia, heat ascended to meet them and to give them a welcome—a soft and almost enticing heat like a breath from some green fastness where strange marvels were secluded.
“Elis even smells remote,” Rosamund said.
“Are you sorry to leave the hill-top?” he asked.
“I was, but already I’m beginning to feel drawn on. There’s something here—what is it?”
She looked at him.
“Something for you.”
“Specially for me?”