“Now,” she said. “I’ve learned it. But you know it’s fun not to joke too rough.”
“Good. I’ve learned it.”
“How often do you think of me during the week?”
“All of the time.”
“No. Tell me truly.”
“All of the time. Truly.”
“Do you think it is this bad for everyone?”
“I wouldn’t know,” the Colonel said. “That’s one of the things I would not know.”
“I hope it’s not this bad for everyone. I had no idea it could be this bad.”
“Well you know now.”
“Yes,” the girl said. “I know now. I know now and for keeps and for always. Is that the correct way to say it?”
“I know now is enough,” the Colonel said. “Ettore, that character with the inspiring face and the nice looking woman with him doesn’t live at the Gritti does he?”
“No,” Ettore said. “He lives next door but he goes to the Gritti sometimes to eat.”
“Good,” the Colonel said. “It will be wonderful to see him if I should ever be down hearted. Who is the woman with him? His wife? His mother? His daughter?”
“There you have me,” Ettore said. “We haven’t kept track of him in Venice. He has aroused neither love, hate, dislike, fear nor suspicion. Do you really want to know anything about him? I could ask Cipriani.”
“Let us skip him,” the girl said. “Is that how you say it?”
