She looked again at the closed door of the Museum.
“When do they open it?”
“Probably the guardian’s in there. That’s where he lives.”
He pointed to a small dwelling close to the museum. Just then a tiny murmur of some far-away wind stirred the umbrella pines which stood sentinel over the valley.
“Oh, Dion, what an exquisite sound!” she said.
She held up one hand like a listening child. There was awe in her eyes.
“This is a shrine,” she said, when the murmur failed. “Dion, I know you planned to go first to the ruins.”
“Yes. They’re just below us. Look—by the river!”
“Let me see the Hermes first, just for a moment.”
Their eyes met. He thought she was reading his mind, though he tried to keep it closed against her just then.