Part 10 (1/2)
It was Laura.
”Where are you keeping yourself?” she asked.
”Here I am, reading a little.”
”But my dear man, we are waiting for you.”
”What for?”
”The idea, what for? To talk.”
”I don't feel like talking. I am very tired.”
”But, _bambino; Benedetto_. Are you going to live your life avoiding everybody?”
”No; I will come out tomorrow.”
”What do you want to do tonight?”
”Tonight! Nothing.”
”Don't you want to go to the theatre?”
”No, no; I have a tremendously weak pulse, and a little fever. My hands are on fire at this moment.”
”What foolishness!”
”It's true.”
”So then you won't come out?”
”No.”
”All right. As you wish.”
”When the weather is good, I will go out.”
”Do you want me to fetch you a Baedeker?”
”No, I have no use for it.”
”Don't you intend to look at the sights, either?”
”Yes, I will look willingly at what comes before my eyes; it wouldn't please me if the same thing happened to me that took place in Florence.”
”What happened to you in Florence?”
”I lost my time lamentably, getting enthusiastic over Botticelli, Donatello, and a lot of other foolishness, and when I got back to London it cost me a good deal of work to succeed in forgetting those things and getting myself settled in my financial investigations again. So that now I have decided to see nothing except in leisure moments and without attaching any importance to all those fiddle-faddles.” ”But what childishness! Is it going to distract you so much from your work, from that serious work you have in hand, to go and see a few pictures or some statues?”