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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."
Hours might have passed, or only moments he could not have told; his eyes looked blankly out at the sun-glow, his hand instinctively clinched on the journal whose stray lines had told him in an Algerine trattoria that he had inherited what he never could enjoy. "Are they content, I wonder?" he thought, gazing down that fiery blaze of shadowless light. "Do they ever remember?"
Then Burger stopped with his hand to his side. "Your legs are longer than mine, and you are more accustomed to walking," said he, laughing. "I think that the place where we turn off is somewhere here. Yes, this is it, round the corner of the trattoria. Now, it is a very narrow path, so perhaps I had better go in front, and you can follow."
After admiring in the museum of the abbey the artistic souvenirs of the Bourbon domination and that of Murat, they entered into a nearby trattoria with tables placed on an esplanade from whose balconies they could take in the unforgetable spectacle of the gulf, seeing Vesuvius in the distance and the chain of mountains smoking on the horizon like an immovable succession of dark rose-colored waves.
But there are those who, like you, would be glad to go directly by Marseilles or Leghorn. It is quite true that movement is the mischief with the purse.-Abiding in Rome or Florence, you can live for a dollar a day. And you can breakfast at a colt; any time you fancy, while wandering about, for two pauls, and dine at a trattoria for from two to four pauls.
A storm of hail which rolled away before us, disclosed the city of Arezzo, on a hill at the other end of the plain, its heavy cathedral crowning the pyramidal mass of buildings. Our first care was to find a good trattoria, for hunger spoke louder than sentiment, and then we sought the house where Petrarch was born. A young priest showed it to us on the summit of the hill.
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