The great statue of Apollo, which had fallen to the ground, was gradually broken up and pieces were carried away to England and France. Much of the statue, Valona knew, remained in Delos, but it lay too far for her to go and see it. Yet she was aware that it was still there and was, according to what she had read, filled with a tremendous power. One visitor to the statue had written, “It was splendid in its loneliness, its perfect beauty and its terrible power.” Valona was miles away, but as she stood looking towards the East, she could feel the magic of the young God, once thirty feet high. In her mind she could see his parted lips, his uplifted hands and his eyes gazing out to sea. More than two thousand years had passed since Apollo’s statue had been erected on the island, yet she knew in her heart that time had in no way weakened him. It was then that she began praying to Apollo with all her heart and soul. She asked him to bring her the true love she longed for. As the God of Light and Love, Apollo represented the fulfilment of dreams to all who worshipped him. ‘Help me, please help me!’ she begged. ‘The love I seek is the same love you give to the world and it is even more powerful than anything else mankind could possess.’