Knowledge was sacred in Athens, knowledge and his twin, Art. ” There was a moment’s silence. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. There was a bare chance that he had been mistaken. Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. He’s been near it once or twice already. Down on your marrow-bones, sirrah! Confess your guilt, and Sir Rowland may yet save you from the gallows. She paused for a moment.
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