Part One
Chapter 5: Possibilities of a Pleasant Outing
(continued)
"And how came we to have you here?" asked the chaplain
paternally.
Miss Bartlett's recent liberalism oozed away at the question.
"Do not blame her, please, Mr. Eager. The fault is mine: I left
her unchaperoned."
"So you were here alone, Miss Honeychurch?" His voice suggested
sympathetic reproof but at the same time indicated that a few
harrowing details would not be unacceptable. His dark, handsome
face drooped mournfully towards her to catch her reply.
"Practically."
"One of our pension acquaintances kindly brought her home," said
Miss Bartlett, adroitly concealing the sex of the preserver.
"For her also it must have been a terrible experience. I trust
that neither of you was at all--that it was not in your immediate
proximity?"
Of the many things Lucy was noticing to-day, not the least
remarkable was this: the ghoulish fashion in which respectable
people will nibble after blood. George Emerson had kept the
subject strangely pure.
"He died by the fountain, I believe," was her reply.
"And you and your friend--"
"Were over at the Loggia."
"That must have saved you much. You have not, of course, seen the
disgraceful illustrations which the gutter Press-- This man is
a public nuisance; he knows that I am a resident perfectly well,
and yet he goes on worrying me to buy his vulgar views."
Surely the vendor of photographs was in league with Lucy--in the
eternal league of Italy with youth. He had suddenly extended his
book before Miss Bartlett and Mr. Eager, binding their hands
together by a long glossy ribbon of churches, pictures, and
views.
"This is too much!" cried the chaplain, striking petulantly at
one of Fra Angelico's angels. She tore. A shrill cry rose from
the vendor. The book it seemed, was more valuable than one would
have supposed.
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