Greek Fire by Winston Graham Read Free Book Online Page B

possession.”
    A sea breeze was stirring her hair and she put up a hand to it. “Personal possession is always unwise. What you grasp you destroy. Taste your pleasures and let them go.”
    He said: “ I’m glad you agree with tasting them.”
    â€œI’m glad you are glad.”
    After a few moments he said: “Where are your excavations?”
    â€œDown there, down nearer the sea. Last year a great statue was found here, of a warrior. They think it is of the seventh century B . C . and they think there is more yet to be found. There was of course a temple here long before this one was built .”
    â€œCan we go down?”
    â€œThe siesta will not be over.”
    The promontory of Cape Colonna slopes down on its western side into a sandy bay, and they walked to it through pine trees where the ground was littered with the shells of hard-boiled eggs left behind by week-end picnickers. Near the sea just where rock and soil and sand met, there was the usual paraphernalia of archaeology: trenches, rubble, and beside it a disused ‘ tourist pavilion’ in the shade of which a dozen Greek labourers crouched and slept.
    â€œHere we began, you see, and here the statue was found. The head with its great helmet was broken from the body and the body was naked. But they fitted together. It couldn’t have been broken naturally or they would not have been so far apart.”
    He said: “You must be rich to have financed these diggings.”
    â€œI didn’t finance them—I told you. I have rich friends. It is the way we live in Greece.”
    An elderly man came forward, hastily fastening his tie, and was introduced to Gene. He and the girl talked for some time on the progress of the operations. They stayed about half an hour. When they were alone again Gene said: “ Have you any of the things that have been found here?”
    â€œThe big things, like the statue, are in the National Museum, but I have a few of the smaller articles in my flat.”
    â€œI’d like to see them sometime.”
    They stopped, looking out to sea. The rocks showed copper and purple and green through the glass-clear water. A lip of white, inches wide, nibbled at the edge. Gene lingered on when she would have moved.
    She said: “Is it true that you really have some affection for Greece?”
    â€œYes …”
    â€œI mean true affection, not just empty sentiment.”
    â€œYes … But I don’t think I like your politicians.”
    â€œDo you like your own?”
    â€œMaybe they’re not the most admirable people in any country.”
    â€œWell, they are no worse here.”
    â€œThis morning I was hearing about that man you pointed out to me last night. Lascou, was it? Someone I met this morning said that Lascou was the most dangerous man in Greece today.”
    She opened her green lizard hand-bag. “ Have you a light, please? I haven’t smoked this afternoon.”
    â€œA match. We’d have to get in the shelter of the trees …”
    They walked across to the pines. He flicked a match alight and held it to her cigarette. When he got close to her—a few inches from her face, he thought, yes, there really is danger. Her skin at close quarters had a faint luminosity. Nonsense, of course; so one’s senses played one false. A rag and a bone and a hank of hair. A rag and a bone.… It was her own estimate.
    She said contemptuously: “When an election is due one man will say anything about another in the hope that it will win him a vote.”
    â€œAnd this is untrue?”
    â€œYou have told me nothing; how can I say what is true or untrue?”
    â€œMy friend, who is I think an intelligent man, said that there are plenty of hypocrites in the world who try to deceive others. George Lascou, he says, is that much more dangerous type, a hypocrite with visions of greatness who begins by deceiving himself.”
    She looked down