Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. There are times when you make me feel a little thing at your feet—a young, silly, protected thing. “No doubt about that, I fancy,” Meddoes answered lightly. I am sure it will be good, John, and I could eat anything. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack.
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