Snubbed, I sat silent with an injured expression that afforded her lively satisfaction, judging from her vivacious voice and manner:
"You are to know, Michael," she began, "that Naxos is one of the Cyclades, and from the day of the old gods it has been famous for its wine.
"In the thirteenth century it was conquered by Venice. It was made into a duchy. So was Tenedos.
"But these two Venetian Duchies were conquered and annexed by the unspeakable Turk in the sixteenth century. Then Greece recovered Naxos."
She looked down pensively at her folded hands. Presently they became interlocked and I saw the fingers twisting nervously.
"There are," she said, "some people—descendants of the old Venetians in Naxos, who believe that the island ought to belong to Italy ... and that the duchy ought to be revived and reconstituted."
"Are you one of these people, Thusis?"
"Yes. I am descended from those Venetians. I was born in Naxos."
She remained absorbed in her own reflections for a few moments, then:
"Tenedos, also, ought to become a duchy again. The Turk rules it. He calls it Bogdsha-Adassi. But it was allied with Greece before Christ lived. It should be either Grecian or Italian.... And Clelia and I believe that it rightly belongs to Italy."