“Those young men startled me at first, because they knew my name. We thought of starting in half an hour’s time, and trying for a theatre somewhere on the way. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. It was years before your time. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity. You may perceive harmony, proportion, rhythm, intensely. I find you an impenetrable enigma. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. “That’s it,” she said. “She must look forward to Italy.
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