Chapter 20: The End of the Middle Ages
The Miss Alans did go to Greece, but they went by themselves.
They alone of this little company will double Malea and plough
the waters of the Saronic gulf. 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
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
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. "What can such
people be made of?"
"Same stuff as parsons are made of."
"Quite right. It is nonsense."
"Now you get up off the cold floor, or you'll be starting
rheumatism next, and you stop laughing and being so silly."
"Why shouldn't I laugh?" he asked, pinning her with his elbows,
and advancing his face to hers. "What's there to cry at? Kiss me
here." He indicated the spot where a kiss would be welcome.