Demetrius saw him pass with flying feet, with set lips, and unseeing eyes; and the popular shop-keeper turned to his patient satellites, Johannes and Michael, and observed:
“He’s been to Mousoulou; I heard it all; the wedding takes place immediately.”
“He’s a good-looking fellow,” said Johannes, apprehensive of the reception of this innocent remark from so susceptible a leader.
“As for that, yes, and he’s getting a good-looking wife, though she does dress outlandishly, and turns up her nose at my stuffs. She got that yellow gown at Syra, and I can’t say I admire the big buttons she wears.”
“Well,” said Michael, reflectively, “she is a very learned young woman, and writes very fine letters for our women. I don’t know what they’ll do when she goes away. I know my girl in Constantinople won’t be in the way of hearing much from my wife.”
“Ay, that’s so,” said Demetrius, “she’ll be missed as letter-writer, and I’m not so sure that the place won’t seem a good deal smaller and duller when we’ve not her handsome face to look at.”
In the courtyard Gustav brushed up against Aristides, who glared at him and muttered a curse as he removed his frame from the doorway, where he had been airing his ill-humour for the benefit of Annunziata, busy making the new Misythra.
“Here he is,” he said to his good-tempered listener, engaged just then on the delicate process of straining off the sheep’s milk and tying up the remainder of clotted cream tightly in a linen cloth.
Gustav strode up to her and said in an unfamiliar voice, chill and remote like an echo:
The pleasant old woman laid down her jar, dried her hands, and took hold of his, tightening upon them with an inspiriting and sympathetic grasp.
“My poor child, may God and His saints go with you! I know all. By my faith, I see no reason why you should go. The Turk, we know, is a heretic, but you would marry my Inarime according to the Greek rite. You would be faithful to her as a Christian should be.”
“Faithful!” cried Gustav, vehemently. “Gladly would I die for her.” But he did not see that of the two this is much the easier to do.
“Yes, yes,” said Annunziata, “young men in love talk very tall; when the fit passes, they do very little. But I like you, and I am sorry for you. Go away now; it is better so. Be assured that your interests here will not suffer by being left in my hands.”