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She would not heed it. But she gave him a very gentle look as she turned to walk up the hill. At the top, by the Trattoria del Giardinetto, she had to wait for several minutes before the tram came. She remembered her solitary dinner there on the evening when she had gone to the Scoglio di Frisio to look at the visitor's book. She had felt lonely then in the soft light of the fading day.
A little green garden adjoins the Giardinetto Infantile and next is a boarded-up dolls' house, and next the Miani or Palazzo Coletti, with two busts on it, and then the lovely Ca' d'Oro, that exquisite riot of Gothic richness. The history of the Ca' d'Oro or golden house, so called from the prevalence of gold in its ornamentation is melancholy.
Hermione had pulled the cord that made the bell sound. She paid and got down. The tram carried away the English ladies, their pointed features red with surprise and indignation. Hermione again began to walk, but almost directly she saw a wandering carriage and hailed the driver. "Carrozza!" She got in. "Put me down at the 'Trattoria del Giardinetto."
And he could promise her an excellent risotto, sardines with pomidoro, and a bifteck such as certainly she could not get in the restaurants of Naples. "Very well," Hermione answered, quickly, "I will dine here, but not directly in half an hour or three-quarters." What Artois was doing at the Ristorante della Stella she was doing at the Trattoria del Giardinetto.
As he watched the tram gliding towards him he was conscious of an almost terrible reluctance a reluctance surely of fear to go that night to the island. But he must go. The sun was setting when he got down before the Trattoria del Giardinetto. Three soldiers were sitting at a table outside on the dusty road, clinking their glasses of marsala together, and singing, "Piange Rosina!
Perhaps merely a sensation of numbness, as if their whole bodies, and their minds, too, were under the influence of a great injection of cocaine. Her thoughts again returned to the parrot. She wondered where it had been bought, whether it had come with Antonio from America. Presently she reached the tramway station and stood still. She had to go back to the "Trattoria del Giardinetto."
How strange to meet you! Have you haven't been to the island?" "No. I was tired. I have been working very hard. I dined quietly at Posilipo." He did not ask her where she had been. "Yes. I think you look tired," she said. He did not speak, and she added: "I felt restless, so I took the tram from the Trattoria del Giardinetto as far as the Scoglio di Frisio, and am going back, as you see, by boat."
"I shall not be in to dinner to-night." He was speaking to the waiter at the door of the Egyptian Room. A minute later he was in the Via Chiatamone at the back of the hotel waiting for the tram. He must go by Posilipo to the Trattoria del Giardinetto, walk down to the village below, and take a boat from there to the island. That was the quickest way. The tram-bell sounded. Was he glad?
He had ordered lunch: Four dozen oysters, woodcock, artichokes, giardinetto. Wines: Chablis, Chateau Lafitte, Grand Vin Mumm, etc. "Wonderful victory!" said he, taking my hand. "Écrasant defeat of the contremine! Sir, Napoleon has capitulated before King William; I capitulate before you. You know more of the psychology of the Money Market than I!"
And, almost at once, she thought, her heart became hard as stone, and she felt self-control like iron within her. That boy of the people should be the last human being to laugh at her. She saw a tram stop. It went to the "Trattoria del Giardinetto." She got in, and sat down next to two thin English ladies, who held guide-books in their hands, and whose pointed features looked piteously inquiring.
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