"And where does this unpractical politician come from?" said the

Englishman.

"We must ask you to tell us that, Sir Evelyn, for though he is supposed

to be a Roman, he seems to have lived most of his life in your country.

As silent as an owl and as inscrutable as a sphinx. Nobody in Rome knows

certainly who his father was, nobody knows certainly who his mother was.

Some say his father was an Englishman, some say a Jew, and some say his

mother was a gipsy. A self-centred man, who never talks about himself,

and cannot be got to lift the veil which surrounds his birth and early

life. Came back to Rome eight years ago, and made a vast noise by

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propounding his platonic scheme of politics--was called up for his term

of military service, refused to serve, got himself imprisoned for six

months and came out a mighty hero--was returned to Parliament for no

fewer than three constituencies, sat for Rome, took his place on the

Extreme Left, and attacked every Minister and every measure which

favoured the interest of the army--encouraged the workmen not to pay

their taxes and the farmers not to pay their rents--and thus became the

leader of a noisy faction, and is now surrounded by the degenerate class

throughout Italy which dreams of reconstructing society by burying it

under ruins."

"Lived in England, you say?"

"Apparently, and if his early life could be traced it would probably be

found that he was brought up in an atmosphere of conspiracy--perhaps

under the influence of some vile revolutionary living in London under

the protection of your too liberal laws."

Donna Roma sprang up with a movement full of grace and energy. "Anyhow,"

she said, "he is young and good-looking and romantic and mysterious, and

I'm head over ears in love with him already."

"Well, every man is a world," said the American.

"And what about woman?" said Roma.

He threw up his hands, she smiled full into his face, and they laughed

together.

VI

A fanfare of trumpets came from the piazza, and with a cry of delight

Roma ran into the balcony, followed by all the women and most of the

men.

"Only the signal that the cortège has started," said Don Camillo.

"They'll be some minutes still."

"Santo Dio!" cried Roma. "What a sight! It dazzles me; it makes me

dizzy!"

Her face beamed, her eyes danced, and she was all aglow from head to

foot. The American Ambassador stood behind her, and, as permitted by his

greater age, he tossed back the shuttlecock of her playful talk with

chaff and laughter.




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