Now he could see over the wall. His gaze wandered over the mountain-sides, travelled down to the land that lay along the edge of the sea.
"Have you been fishing much since I've been away, Maurice?" Hermione asked, as they began to eat.
"Oh yes. I went several times. What wine do you like, Monsieur Artois?"
He tried to change the conversation, but Hermione, quite innocently, returned to the subject.
"They fish at night, you know, Emile, all along that coast by Isola Bella and on to the point there that looks like an island, where the House of the Sirens is."
A tortured look went across Maurice's face. He had begun to eat, but now he stopped for a moment like a man suddenly paralyzed.
"The House of the Sirens!" said Artois. "Then there are sirens here? I could well believe it. Have you seen them, Monsieur Maurice, at night, when you have been fishing?"
He had been gazing at the coast, but now he turned towards his host. Maurice began hastily to eat again.
"I'm afraid not. But we didn't look out for them. We were prosaic and thought of nothing but the fish."
"And is there really a house down there?" said Artois.