my mind, this Cretan countryside resembled good prose,
ordered, sober, free from superfluous ornament, powerful
and restrained. It
expressed all that was necessary with the greatest
economy. It had
no flippancy, nor artifice about it. It said what it had
to say with a manly
austerity. But between the severe lines one could discern
sensitiveness and tenderness ; in the sheltered hollows
the lemon and
orange trees perfumed the air, and from the vastness of
the sea emanated
an inexhaustible poetry.
"Crete," I murmured. "Crete..." and
my heart beat fast.