The conquest of Rome

to ask for information. One of the wings of the door was shut, the other ajar. The deputy entered a dingy passage-way, and advanced six or seven paces before reaching the stairs. He perce

a dirty visiting card bearing a forename and a surname: 'Alessandro Bertocchini.' Sangiorgi

few inches. A tall man with a red nose and two fair curls plastered against his temples appeared. The Honourable touched his hat, and asked if Signor Alessandro Bertocchini lived here

into his pockets, he left the deputy to wait on the landing. Through the open doorway a small anteroom was

d Signor Alessandro in

opposite wall ran a white marble mantelpiece, upon which stood two tall petroleum lamps, a clock that had stopped, and three photographs in their frames. On the wall hung a long, narrow mirror, somewhat greenish, in whose corners were stuck, for ornament, little red, yellow, and blue oleographs of the King, Queen, and heir to the throne. Near the mantle were two w

is weak, drawling voice, looking into the air, his

djoined the parlour, and was likewise long and narrow. The bed stood lengthwise, and beside it were a chair and the nightstand; before it lay a carpet like that in the parlour, and at the back was a blue cloth easy-chair, with a spot that had eaten into the colour. Against the other wall stood a chest of drawers whose wooden top was somewhat stained, with circles on it, as if wet glasses had been there; the t

uired the Honour

vance,' whistled Signor Al

about th

shes the boots. Eighty lire a month-in advance.' And he sighed deeply, runn

dear-eig

h for a discussion, and did not want to waste any. As they were about to leave the apar

rmitted fre

cloak, she was quite fresh and young behind her black veil. She walked with rhythmical step, her gloved hands hidden in her muff, her eyes downcast, as though she were immersed in thought. And there was such dignity and sweetness in that female form that the Honourable

that everlasting symptom of moral oppression, a weight on his chest, on his shoulders, on his head, which he had been unable to sh

three doors, all three bearing the names of women, one of them written in violet ink, and in a feminine hand, on a tiny bit of pink pasteboard. The right-hand door, marked 'Virginia Magnani,' was opene

cuse me for receiving you like this, but one never manages to finish dressing in the morning. I go to the theatre

by the loquacity of this little

lsky send

, ma

te's rest, so he always used to tell me when we chatted together a little-he was so civil, the Honourable Santinelli. "My dear Signora Virginia," he would say, "I can endure this life no longer!" This, as you see, is the parlour, neat and elegant. All these hangings are my own work; I made them when I was yo

y not very different from that of the Via Angelo Custode: there was more faded drapery, a larger number of photographs

om. There is a little library, for books, as I have always had studious deputi

adam,

However, you can let me take care of your clothes-your dress-suit, your overcoat, your pelisse-I will keep them in my own wardrobe, and they will be quite safe. Here is everything-basin, jug, slop-jar, bed with tw

-Francesco

uty

Basil

live by letting rooms, I should be left out in the cold. In the anteroom there is a door communicating with my apartment; when it is locked you

id not quite

do not know,' he

lady, there is my sister, Restituta Coppi, on the same landing, who has rooms to dispose of. My sister's-in-law, on the second floor, I cannot recommend; she is not clean

mad

ind another Signora Virginia before I married, but there are no more of them." Well, we were saying a hundred and thirty lire a month, which is really a low price, and ten lire a month for service to Nanna; and then there is the gas on the stairs until eleven o'clock-five lire. By-the-by, I can also have your washing attended to. I have an excellent laundress; she

and Sangiorgio maintained the cold reser

because of Sangiorgio's long silence, 'but what do you propose to do? I have many inqui

ty, in whom the natural diffidence of the provincial asser

all and ask for it at the Parliament?'

rouble; I wil

ion that he was able to give orders to be driven to the Via del Gambero, No. 37, since he did not yet know the streets. The Via del Gambero had the atmosphere of mystery of the streets parallel to the Corso, affected by hurrying men and busy women. From the great Palazzo Raggi, with its courtyard like a square, with one entrance on the Corso and the ot

artment to let here

Will you

d like t

. As for the flaccid, wan cheeks, white and dotted with freckles, and the pale-violet, youthful mouth, one might guess that once this face had been round, rosy, and that it had collapsed suddenly like a doll's from which the sawdust has escaped through a little hole. The staircase was spacious, and had wide turnings, a rare circumstance in Roman houses; on every landing were three doors, uniformly situated. On

deputies also

oman, inserting the key in the lock of the right-hand door of the third floor,

new, had pretensions to elegance. A majolica flower-vase stood on a table, and the

' observed the woman. 'There are fireplaces on each floor. The deputy on the

Chamber?' asked Sangiorgio,

d the woman, with a malicious sm

pay here?' Sangiorg

and eighty

eems

is not too high, in the middle of Rome, two steps from the Corso. I am not boasting

fringe of the wig over her forehead

ear,' he

ou want all this in the Via del Gambero for less than a hundred and eighty lire, my dear sir, I assure you the thing is impossible. The deputy on the first floor came here four years ago, and was so well suited that he has remained ever since; the

but these things d

me back, for you will find nothing as good as this,

cape, with a brown veil that went round her hat, head, neck, and

omers,' murmured the porteress. 'She i

, and the Honourable Sangiorgio, casting his eyes upward, perceived

arm smell of spices. Next to it was a florist's shop, full of vases with bulrushes, of reeds, of tree-trunks, with winter roses in the window, a bunch of lilies of the valley in a jar, tender, early flowers. The stairs were marble, clean, and lit from above by a window in the roof. Three doors fronted on each landing; they were of light wood, of varnished maple, with shining brass knobs for knockers. A servant in undress livery opened the door immediately, and ushered the Honourable Sangiorgio into a dim parlour, saying that the lady of the house would join him in a

oblige me?

ntz, very agreeable to the eye; the mirror was oval, with a ledge of carved wood; a long, low sofa stood near the bay-window, hung with close, embroidered muslin curtains, which, draped in heavy folds and without cords, dragged on the floor. A great array of photographs were queerly disposed on the wall, as if they had been thrown at it at haphazard; on a tiny writing-desk stood a red plush photograph frame

oom, too,' murmured th

rouble you,' inte

t; it is important; it has a

ld Roman heads, opened another door, which fronted on the landing; this was the t

it whiter. In her black dress, with its statuesque folds, and with the pale, calm Roman matron's co

for me,' he said. 'I like it very muc

she did not quite believe hi

'I want a quiet place for my work, and nothing more. I spend much time at the

he was called away, and had to leave.' And she s

d the deputy, after a

,' replied the lady placidly, strai

ed?' the Honourable Sangiorgio

e to an understanding

re,' murmured the ot

ly, accompanied the deputy back to the door, without even asking him whether he intended to en

hile idly walking along the Via Mercede, he drew a picture in his mind of the pink and gray parlour, so sweet in its simplicity, of the blue room all veiled with white, of the double curtains floating and billowy, with their suggestion of privacy, of the retreat ensconced high up, away from the world. All that furniture-the lounge upon which the Russian lady must have reposed, to dream the dreams of a whimsical foreigner; that minute table, on which she had written her letters; that dres

ainly, must know her; yes, she must know her quite well, that porteress with the flaccid countenance and the hideous eyes; there was cunning in her insinuating language. Who knows? She must have been handsome, the porteress with the horrible wig-perhaps also genteel; she must have a curious history, and he had not given her time to talk, as she had desired to. Signora Virginia, however, had told him a considerable portion of her history, but what sort of wife was she who read novels while her husband cooked dumplings in the kitchen? And from his depression he gradually revived, harbouring a growing interest for all those feminine puzzles: the vision of the Russian lady, that mysterious person of the Via Capo le Case; the

would sit silent in the Chamber, and then, one day, would break out with Southern ardour, astonishing everybody. The Honourable Sangiorgio looked after them for a minute; they were returning from breakfast, and on the pavement they met the third of the Neapolitan trinity, the Honourable Piccirillo, with a fair, flowing beard, with small blue eyes, the lord of the turbulent popular district of Naples. And then a lively conversation ensued on the pavement. The Honourable Piccirillo narrated something important and authentic, gesticulating, making signs with his han

, these furnished apartments, these furnished rooms, which have their being and flourish all over Rome, vegetating almost abundantly enough to stifle it; and the meaning dawned upon him of all this strange mixture of middle-class females, of tailoresses, porteresses, servants, and shopkeepers, who find the letting of rooms the easiest and surest profit; and he saw 'twixt the seeker for rooms and all these women the compulsory association, the communication of doors open or closed, the half-cohabitation, the meetings in the morning, at night, at dangerous hours of the daytime-a female control beginning in the house, extending to the laundry, then to the clothes, then to th

niprevalence, in his fierce thirst for solitude and independence, he t