ay--away, away,
and far away, over the bright blue sea. Every afternoon we get a wind,
sweeping in from the north. Sometimes it is only a _venticello_,
sometimes a _temporale_, sometimes an _orogano terribile_, but it is
always sufficient to blow away the mosquitoes and the bandits. Pia
told me so. Sweet Pia."

"Humph," said Anthony.

"Humph, by all means," Adrian hastened to agree. "I have a sort of
humphy feeling myself--a sort of unsatisfied yearning, that is scarcely
akin to pain, and resembles sorrow only as the mist resembles the rain.
I think it may be imputed to inadequate nourishment. I think I will
try some of that mortadella, if you 'll be so good as to pass it.
Thank you. And another cup of coffee, with plenty of whipped cream on
top, please. How cruel dairymaids must be, to whip such nice stuff as
cream. But they 're cruel only to be kind, are n't they?--cruel to the
cream, to be kind to us, the dear creatures. If you 'd give up smoking
and drinking, you 'd have a healthy appetite yourself. Come! Be
comforted. Cast off this green and yellow melancholy. Take me for
your exemplar. I too, when I first visited my ancestral home, I too
was filled with horror and resentment. I entered it screaming, as I am
credibly informed, kicking and screaming, protesting with all the
passion of latent genius, with all the force of a brand-new pair of
lungs. But I 've enjoyed it very well ever since. Ah, the strange
tale of Man. Conceived in sin, brought forth in pain, to live and
amuse himself in an impenetrable environment of mystery--in an
impenetrable fog. And never to see, of all things, his own face! To
see the faces of others, to see the telescopic stars and the
microscopic microbes, yet never to see his own face. And even the
reflection, the shadow of it, which he can see in a looking-glass, even
that he perforce sees _a rebours_. You can't deny it's rum. But if I
had a face as long as yours, I solemnly believe, I should deem it
likewise providential."

"To think, to think," Anthony, long-faced, was brooding, "that she in
mere wilfulness has condemned me to a whole mortal week of this."

"We lunch," said Adrian, "at one, though Pia suggested twelve, and dine
at seven, though Pia suggested six. At four we shall have a little
_goute_--_caffe con pasticceria_--to take the place of tea. And now,
if you can tear yourself from the pleasures of the table, let's be up
and doing. We 'll begin wit