“Yes, I like that.”
She looked at the two young men with a smile. One of them noticed it, and smiled back at her almost boyishly, and with a sort of confidential simplicity.
The light began to fail. The six maidens were less clearly seen, but the deep meaning of them did not lessen. In the gathering darkness they and their sweet effort became more touching, more lovable. Their persistence was exquisite now that they confronted with serenity the night.
“They are beautiful by day, but at night they are adorable,” said Rosamund.
“Don’t you know why I thought of them when I met you?” he whispered.
She got up slowly. The Greek soldiers moved, turned, and went down the slope towards the Propylae. Their quick voices were heard again. Then there was the sound of a bell.
“Time to go,” said Rosamund.
As they followed the soldiers she again put her arm through her young husband’s.
“Dion,” she said, “I think I’m a little afraid of your ideals. I understand them. I have ideals too. But I think perhaps mine are less in danger of ever being shattered than yours are.”
“Why? But I know mine are not in danger.”