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Page 44
"Singles or returns?" said he.
"A single for me," said Harriet peevishly; "I shall
never get back alive."
"Sweet creature!" said her brother, suddenly breaking
down. "How helpful you will be when we come to Signor Carella!"
"Do you suppose," said Harriet, standing still among a
whirl of porters--"do you suppose I am going to enter that
man's house?"
"Then what have you come for, pray? For ornament?"
"To see that you do your duty."
"Oh, thanks!"
"So mother told me. For goodness sake get the tickets;
here comes that hot woman again! She has the impudence to bow."
"Mother told you, did she?" said Philip wrathfully, as
he went to struggle for tickets at a slit so narrow that
they were handed to him edgeways. Italy was beastly, and
Florence station is the centre of beastly Italy. But he had
a strange feeling that he was to blame for it all; that a
little influx into him of virtue would make the whole land
not beastly but amusing. For there was enchantment, he was
sure of that; solid enchantment, which lay behind the
porters and the screaming and the dust. He could see it in
the terrific blue sky beneath which they travelled, in the
whitened plain which gripped life tighter than a frost, in
the exhausted reaches of the Arno, in the ruins of brown
castles which stood quivering upon the hills. He could see
it, though his head ached and his skin was twitching, though
he was here as a puppet, and though his sister knew how he
was here. There was nothing pleasant in that journey to
Monteriano station. But nothing--not even the discomfort--was
commonplace.
"But do people live inside?" asked Harriet. They had
exchanged railway-carriage for the legno, and the legno had
emerged from the withered trees, and had revealed to them
their destination. Philip, to be annoying, answered "No."
"What do they do there?" continued Harriet, with a frown.
"There is a caffe. A prison. A theatre. A church.
Walls. A view."
"Not for me, thank you," said Harriet, after a weighty pause.
"Nobody asked you, Miss, you see. Now Lilia was asked
by such a nice young gentleman, with curls all over his
forehead, and teeth just as white as father makes them."
Then his manner changed. "But, Harriet, do you see nothing
wonderful or attractive in that place--nothing at all?"
"Nothing at all. It's frightful."
"I know it is. But it's old--awfully old."
"Beauty is the only test," said Harriet. "At least so
you told me when I sketched old buildings--for the sake, I
suppose, of making yourself unpleasant."
"Oh, I'm perfectly right. But at the same time--I don't
know--so many things have happened here--people have lived so
hard and so splendidly--I can't explain."
"I shouldn't think you could. It doesn't seem the best
moment to begin your Italy mania. I thought you were cured
of it by now. Instead, will you kindly tell me what you are
going to do when you arrive. I do beg you will not be taken
unawares this time."
"First, Harriet, I shall settle you at the Stella
d'Italia, in the comfort that befits your sex and
disposition. Then I shall make myself some tea. After tea
I shall take a book into Santa Deodata's, and read there.
It is always fresh and cool."
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