It was no wonder that he would not allow anything to disturb him in
that inner sanctuary of rare delight. His bodily nature, his
imagination, his deep knowledge and love of his own Hellenic poets, his
almost adoration of the beautiful, all that was his real self, placed
him far outside the pale that confines the world of common men as the
sheepfold pens in the flock.
It was late in the night when he rose from his seat at last,
extinguished the lights himself and left the room, with a regretful
look on his face; for, after his manner, he had been very happy in his
solitude, if indeed he had been alone where his treasure reigned.
He went downstairs, for the sanctuary was high up in the house, and he
found his man dozing in a chair in the vestibule at the door of his
dressing-room. The valet rose to his feet instantly, took a little
salver from the small table beside him, and held it out to Logotheti.
'A telegram, sir,' he said.
Logotheti carelessly tore the end off the blue cover and glanced at the
contents.
Can buy moon. Cable offer and limit.
Logotheti looked at his watch and made a short calculation which
convinced him that no time would really be lost in buying the moon if
he did not answer the telegram till the next morning. Then he went to
bed and read himself to sleep with Musurus' Greek translation of
Dante's Inferno.