“David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. ” “I’m afraid it can’t. She was carefree. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. It was a dead calm. “Let us go to that little place at the back of the Palace.
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