“I don’t think so,” he answered. “Didn’t the conquerors of both Salamis and Platasa afterwards sell out to the Persian king? And then you talk about the noble ideal of woman which the Greeks developed! Don’t you know that it was nothing but a literary tradition?” “I had never understood that,” said Mrs. Channing. To which the other answered: “It was handed down from imaginary Homeric days. The Greek lady of the Periclean age was a domestic prisoner and drudge.” Section 3. Then, late in the afternoon, came Corydon; and this part of the adventure must have seemed stranger yet to the Channings. Corydon wore a shirt-waist and a ten-cent straw hat, trimmed with some white mosquito-netting, and an old blue skirt which she had worn before her marriage, and had enlarged little by little during the period of her pregnancy, and had taken in again after the baby was born. Also she was pale and sad-looking, much startled by the sight of the automobile, and the sudden apparition of elegance. She got rid of her armfuls of groceries and bundles, and seated herself in an inconspicuous place, and sat listening while the argument went on. For a full hour she never uttered a word; only once during the controversy over the “Greek lady”, Mrs. Channing turned to her and asked, “Don’t you agree with me?” But Corydon could only answer, “I don’t know, I have not read much history.” And who was there to tell the visitor that this strange, wide-eyed girl knew more about the tragedies and terrors of the Greek temperament than she with all her culture and her college-degrees could have learned in many life-times? The two stayed to supper, and Corydon and Thyrsis set out the meal upon the rustic outdoor table; they apologized for their domestic inadequacies, but Mrs. Channing declared that she “adored picknicking”. The evening was spent in more discussion; and finally it was decided that the visitors should stay over night at the hotel in town, and come out again in the morning. Thyrsis concluded, as he thought the matter over, that the two must have been fascinated by this domestic situation, and curious to look deeper into it. Perhaps they saw “material” in it; or perhaps it was that Haddon Channing was really impressed by Thyrsis’ powers, and sought to understand his problems and help him. Whatever may have been the motive for it, when they came the next morning, the critic took Thyrsis for a walk in the woods and proceeded to discuss his affairs. And meanwhile his wife had set herself to the task of probing the innermost corners of Corydon’s soul. The burden of Channing’s discourse was Thyrsis’ impatience and lack of balance, his fanaticism and his too great opinion of his own work. “My dear fellow,” he said, “you are the most friendless human being I have ever encountered upon earth. How can you expect to interest men if you don’t get out into the world and learn what they are doing?” “That means to get a position, I suppose?” said Thyrsis.