of shirts; the water hissed, guttered and formed little fiords and lakes. Prokop began to water white petticoats and other interesting things; but Annie took the can out of his hands and did it herself. Meanwhile Prokop sat down on the grass, inhaling with delight the damp smell and watching Annie’s beautiful and active hands.
Σοί δέ θεοί τόα δοῖεν, he remembered piously, σέβας μ’ἔχει είσορόωντα.
Annie sat down on the grass next to him. “What were you thinking about?” She blinked her eyes happily, dazzled by the brightness of the sun, blushed, and for some reason was inordinately happy. Plucking a full handful of fresh grass, she tried exuberantly to throw it on to his hair; but for some reason or other she suddenly felt a sort of shyness before this shaggy hero. “Have you ever been in love?” she asked inconsequently and quickly looked in another direction.
Prokop laughed. “I have. And you surely have already loved somebody?”
“I was silly once,” said Annie, and against her will grew red.
“A student?”
Annie only nodded and sucked a blade of grass. “It was nothing,” she said quickly. “And you?”
“I once met a girl who had the same sort of eyelashes that you have. Perhaps she was rather like you. She sold gloves or something of the sort.”
“And what else?”
“Nothing. When I went there again to buy some gloves, she was gone.”
