They alone will visit Athens and
Delphi, and either shrine of intellectual song--that upon the
Acropolis, encircled by blue seas; that under Parnassus, where
the eagles build and the bronze charioteer drives undismayed
towards infinity. Trembling, anxious, cumbered with much
digestive bread, they did proceed to Constantinople, they did go
round the world. The rest of us must be contented with a fair,
but a less arduous, goal. Italiam petimus: we return to the
Pension Bertolini.
George said it was his old room.
"No, it isn't," said Lucy; "because it is the room I had, and I
had your father's room. I forget why; Charlotte made me, for some
reason."
He knelt on the tiled floor, and laid his face in her lap.
"George, you baby, get up."
"Why shouldn't I be a baby?" murmured George.
Unable to answer this question, she put down his sock, which she
was trying to mend, and gazed out through the window. It was
evening and again the spring.
"Oh, bother Charlotte," she said thoughtfully.
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