She had felt less serene
since the day before, and John Derringham and his words and looks
absorbed her thoughts. The home of Aphrodite was now in a chest in the
long gallery, of which she kept the key, and as this old room was always
empty--none of the servants, not even Priscilla, caring about visiting
it--haunted, it was, they said--she had plenty of time to spend what
hours she liked with her treasure without having to do so by stealth, as
in the beginning. For any place indoors she loved the long gallery
better than any other place. The broken window panes had been mended
when the turn for the better came for the whole house, and now she
herself kept it all dusted and tidy and used it as a sitting-room and
work-room as well; and, above all, it was the temple of the goddess
wherein was her shrine.
This day when Aphrodite was uncovered from her blue silk wrappings, her
whole expression seemed to be one of appeal; however Halcyone would hold
her, in high or low light, the eyes appeared to be asking her something.
"What is it, sweet mother and friend?" she said.
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