She felt sleepy and unusually irritable. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. ’ There was a chuckle in his voice. ‘Eh bien, you are not like Leonardo. Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself.
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