United States or Cuba ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The soup, a "zuppa di pesce alla marinara" remarkable for its beautiful red color, had been originally invented by the chef of Frisio's for the ex-Queen Natalie of Servia, who had deigned to come, heavily veiled, to lunch at the Scoglio, and had finally thrown off her veil and her incognito, and written her name in the visitors' book for all to see.
The machine in the stern throbbed. They rushed forward into the blackness of the impenetrable night, the white of the leaping foam, the hissing of the rain, the roaring of the wind. In a blurred and hasty vision the lights of Frisio's ran before them, fell back into the storm like things defeated.
Seeing the amused interest of his guests, the Marchesino encouraged the Padrone to talk, called for his most noted wines, and demanded at dessert a jug of Asti Spumante, with snow in it, and strawberries floating on the top. "You approve of Frisio's, Signorina?" he said, bending towards Vere. "You do not find your evening dull?" The girl shook her head.
But still she did not know whether he had written that sentence in the book at Frisio's carelessly, or prompted by some violent impulse to express a secret thought or feeling of the moment. "Things good or evil?" she said, slowly. "Perhaps both." The Marchesino burst into a laugh. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head, and holding the table with his two hands. His white teeth gleamed.
Nothing told her when the eyes of her friend were for an instant fixed upon her, when the mind of her friend for a moment wondered at the strange, new look in her face. She left the tram presently at the doorway above which is Frisio's name, descended to the little terrace from which Vere had run in laughing with the Marchesino, and stood there for a moment hesitating.
Suddenly Artois knew why Vere believed in his power, and why Gaspare believed in it knew how their instincts had guided them, knew to what secret knowledge perhaps not even consciously now their knowledge they had travelled. And he remembered the words he had written in the book at Frisio's on the night of the storm: "La Conscience, c'est la quantite de science innee que nous avons en nous."
I believe I understand all now, all the circumstances that have seemed strange to me this summer. I wanted Vere's talent to develop naturally, unhindered, unaffected I thought it was merely that and I became exigent, I even became jealous of all outside interference. On the night we dined at Frisio's I felt strongly irritated at Panacci's interest in Vere. And there were other moments "
Her entry roused him from his reverie, and he took out his watch. It was already past eight. The Marchesino would soon be coming. And then the dinner at Frisio's! He got up and moved about the room, picking up a book here and there, glancing at some pages, then putting it down. He felt restless and uneasy. "I am tired from the journey," he thought. "Or I wonder what the weather is this evening.
The people who had just come in were sitting down far away at the end of the long room. Hermione and Artois were the only other visitors, now that Vere and the Marchesino were outside on the terrace. "Famous though it is, Frisio's does not draw the crowd," said Hermione.
"He was good enough to introduce us to each other, wasn't he?" she added. "We must all have an evening together, as we did at Frisio's." The Marchesino bowed. "With pleasure, Signora." They came into the house. As they did so Peppina came down the stairs. When she saw them she murmured a respectful salutation and passed quickly by, averting her wounded cheek.
Word Of The Day