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.''Yes, darling — but don't forget that this evening we're going to have dinner in Trastevere,' said Sophia.And without Sister Dew it would really be a more suitable party, if, as she very much hoped, Rupert Stonebird could be persuaded to join them.'Of course you must visit her,' said Sophia, 'but there's an English chaplain and you must leave him something to do.''I expect he has plenty to do,' said Penelope.'I'm sure English tourists, especially women, are always falling about in ruins and getting taken to hospital.And getting upset by the food and wine, too.''And English people are dying everywhere,' said Sophia.'Rome is full of their bones.' Here lies one whose name was writ in water — she felt she could not bear to visit the English cemetery with Sister Dew.Back at the pensione there seemed to be some agitation at the reception desk.Rupert Stonebird was trying to explain to the little man in the striped jacket that he wanted a room for a few nights.'It isn't enough to have read Colucci when it comes to ordinary conversation,' he said, turning to Sophia thankfully.'Somehow the things one wants to say aren't to be found in that excellent work.'Behind Sophia he could see Ianthe and Penelope standing side by side.He wäs struck immediately by Ianthe's absolute rightness here — the Englishwoman in Rome — in her cool green linen suit and straw hat.Penelope looked slightly grotesque by contrast, in dusty black cotton, with red sandals on her stumpy little bare feet.She reminded him of some of the women who had been at the conference in Perugia.And yet Penelope was more appealing than these and seemed genuinely pleased to see him.Her dusty little toes amused him, for they were such a contrast to Ianthe's smooth beige linen shoes.When Sophia, tentatively yet somehow firmly, put forward her plan for the evening he found himself thinking that it would be fun and was delighted to accept.There had not been much time for romance or even flirtation at the conference.A handsome Italian girl to whom he had been attracted had turned out to be disappointingly serious-minded, wanting from him only a secondhand copy of a long out of print anthropological book which he had promised to look for in Kegan Paul's and other suitable shops.Somehow it had not seemed a promising start to an affair, though it might well have provided a solid basis for marriage.But perhaps it was something lacking in himself that made an attractive woman see him rather as a procurer of secondhand books than as a lover.With this thought in mind he set out for the evening in a rather subdued mood — dark-suited, with his spectacles in his hand.Nor was he encouraged to find that a possible rival — a good-looking dark man some years younger than himself — had been invited to join the party.Sophia addressed him as 'Father Branche', which made Rupert think that he must be a celibate Roman Catholic priest — so perhaps he was not a rival in the true sense of the word after all.Apparently they were fortunate in having his company that evening, since the two ladies he was with had another engagement.'The Misses Bede are dining with Cardinal Pirelli this evening,' he said, or seemed to have said, for the name 'Cardinal Pirelli' seemed to Rupert at once familiar and unlikely.Yet English ladies in Rome no doubt did dine with Cardinals — it seemed right for both parties for they would have much to learn from each other.Edwin and Daisy, after reassuring Sophia about Sister Dew's ankle, which was only a severe sprain, decided not to join the others for dinner but to go in search of more Roman cats to feed.Edwin even hoped to get another sight of the Aberdeen terrier he had seen a few evenings ago in the Via Botteghe Oscure.Their absence left a rather suitable party of six to dine at the restaurant in Trastevere.Nicely paired off, Sophia thought happily, dividing the party between two taxis.'You come with us, Ianthe,' she said, 'and Penny can go with Rupert and Father Branche.'Two taxis, thought Rupert, what extravagance! The anthropologists in Perugia had gone everywhere by tram or on foot.Indeed, the dusty-looking group, most of them carrying briefcases and raincoats, had been quite a familiar sight in the town.Still, he could hardly question Sophia's arrangements, though he did wish that Ianthe could have been in his taxi.All the same Penelope looked attractive in an outlandish sort of way, in a black skirt and orange velvet top.She wore no jewellery and her lips were pale, though her eyes seemed to be heavily made up.The heavy scent she wore tantalized him because it was one he knew though he could not remember its name — whether it was an evocative French phrase or a downright English word like 'Carpet' or 'Swamp'.He wondered if Basil Branche knew, then decided that a celibate priest — or at least not an English one — would probably not know such things.Mark sat back complacently in his taxi with Sophia and Ianthe.Sophia wore a black dress and an antique silver necklace set with turquoises; Ianthe was in flowered silk with pearls.She smelt rather faintly of lily of the valley and was in a mood to match the sweetness of that flower, smiling and finding everything delightful.What an asset to our congregation, Mark found himself thinking, without realizing what an odd thought it was to have in a taxi in Rome.'How interesting and mysterious all this looks,' said Ianthe, as the taxi nosed its way through the narrow alleys and little squares of Trastevere and finally came to a stop in what seemed to be a dead end, a blank wall on which mysterious scrawls — perhaps even a ghostly DUCE — could be discerned.A few gesticulations and shouted phrases between Sophia and the driver had them turning round and threading their way down another dark alley, until suddenly the headlights picked out Rupert, Penelope and Basil Branche standing in front of a doorway, like characters in an opera.Perhaps here will be enacted the drama which was lacking at the Trevi fountain, Sophia thought hopefully.'We've been here ages,' said Penelope, running up to the taxi.'Did you get lost?' She had quite enjoyed her ride, though she kept remembering Miss Bede and the hot milk whenever she looked at Basil.He, however, seemed not at all embarrassed and had rather irritatingly told Rupert of all the things he had apparently missed seeing in Perugia.Now they entered a narrow doorway with a lantern hanging from it, from which a grey cat scuttled away into the shadows, and found themselves in a kind of anteroom leading to the restaurant proper.One wall was taken up with an elaborate gilt-framed mirror under which stood a marble-topped table laden with a still life of food.There was a joint of meat, raw steak, a large fish and a lobster, flanked by a pile of artichokes, apples, and oranges, with rough-looking skins and withered leaves still clinging to them.'I wonder if pussy was at that fish,' said Penelope, in Sister Dew's manner.'I shouldn't fancy it after that.'They were shown to a table in an inner room by a wall covered with signed photographs of celebrities of some kind, with an occasional face almost recognizable among so many flashing sets of teeth and gleaming waves of hair [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]