“Why trust—specially?” he said. “Ah,” he threw himself down by her side with a sigh of happiness, “this is good! The historic mound, and we think of it merely as a resting-place, vandals that we are. But—why trust?”
“I mean that Greece never keeps any unpleasant surprises up her sleeve, surprises such as other countries have of noisy, intruding people. It’s terrible how accustomed I’m getting to having everything all to myself, and how I simply love it.”
He began slowly unpacking the pannier, and laying its contents out on the mound.
“You’re a puzzle, Rosamund,” he said.
“Why?”
“You have a greater faculty for making yourself delightful to all sorts of people than I have found in any other person, woman or man. And yet you are developing a perfect passion for solitude.”
“Do you want people here?”
“No.”
“Then you agree with me.”
“But you have an absolute lust for an empty world.”