carriage came along but there was some one in it. The fog was turning to rain.
“We could walk or take a tram,” Catherine said.
“One will be along,” I said. “They go by here.”
“Here one comes,” she said.
The driver stopped his horse and lowered the metal sign on his meter. The top of the carriage was up and there were drops of water on the driver’s coat. His varnished hat was shining in the wet. We sat back in the seat together and the top of the carriage made it dark.
“Where did you tell him to go?”
“To the station. There’s a hotel across from the station where we can go.”
“We can go the way we are? Without luggage?”
“Yes,” I said.
It was a long ride to the station up side streets in the rain.
“Won’t we have dinner?” Catherine asked. “I’m afraid I’ll be hungry.”
“We’ll have it in our room.”
“I haven’t anything to wear. I haven’t even a night-gown.”
“We’ll get one,” I said and called to the driver.
“Go to the Via Manzoni and up that.” He nodded and turned off to the left at the next corner. On the big street Catherine watched for a shop.
“Here’s a place,” she said. I stopped the driver and Catherine got out, walked across the sidewalk and went inside. I sat back in the carriage and waited for her. It was raining and I could smell the wet street and the horse steaming in the rain. She came back with a package and got in and we drove on.
