She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. " "You delight me with the intelligence," said the stranger, entirely recovering his cheerfulness of look. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. There were more of us back then, and we weren’t seen as ghouls, in fact, in Greece and the time before we were worshipped as gods. ’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily.
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