"But heigh-ho, nonny! Coming home I felt like the witches in 'Macbeth.'
'By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.' It was
Senator Tom-tit, the little fat Mayor of Rome. His great ambition is to
wear the green ribbon of St. Maurice and Lazarus, as none know better
than myself. Wanting money on my fountain, I had written to the old
wretch, but the moment we met I could see what was coming, so I braved
it out, bustled about and made a noise. It was a mistake! There had been
no commission at all! But if a little money would repay me for a loss of
time....
"It wasn't so much that I cared about the loss of the fees, badly as I
needed them. It was mainly that I had allowed the summer flies who
buzzed about me for the Baron's sake to flatter me into the notion that
I was an artist, when I was really nobody for myself at all.
"This humour lasted all afternoon, and spoiled my digestion for dinner,
which was a pity, for there was some delicious wild asparagus. But then
I thought of you and your work, and the future when you will come back
with all Rome at your feet, and my vexation disappeared and I was
content to be nothing and nobody except somebody whom you loved and who
loved you, and that was to be everything and everybody in the world.
"I don't care a rush about the matter now, but what do you think I've
done? Sold my carriage and horses! Actually! The little job-master, with
his tight trousers, close-cropped head, and chamois-leather waistcoat,
has just gone off after cheating me abominably. No matter! What do I
want with a grand carriage while you are going about as an exile and an
outcast? I want nothing you have not got, and all I have I wish you to
have too, including my heart and my soul and everything that is in
them...."
She stopped. This was the place to reveal her great secret. But she
could not find her way to begin. "To-morrow will do," she thought, and
so laid down the pen.
V
Early next morning Roma received a visit from the lawyer who conducted
the business of her landlord. He was a middle-aged man in
pepper-and-salt tweeds, and his manner was brusque and aggressive.
"Sorry to say, Excellency, that I've had a letter from Count Mario at
Paris saying that he will require this apartment for his own use. He
regrets to be compelled to disturb you, but having frequently apprised
you of his intention to live here himself...."