“Yes; I remember exactly how we came, and I shall soon find a cab, I suppose. Do you ever go to the club?” “Yes, sometimes.” “I should like very much to meet you again.” “I daresay you will”—and after a moment’s hesitation: “Come and see us one day, if you care, and have tea. Via Vantaggio 111. Cesca and I are generally at home in the afternoon.” “Thanks, I should like to very much. Good-bye, then, and thanks so much.” She gave him her hand: “The same to you.” At the gate he looked back; she was scraping her canvas with a palette knife and humming the song they had heard in the café. He remembered the tune, and began to hum it himself as he walked away. IV Jenny brought her arms out from under the blanket and put them behind her neck. It was icy cold in the room, and dark. No ray of light came through the shutters. She struck a match and looked at her watch—it was nearly seven. She could doze a little longer, and she crept down under the blankets again, with her head deep in the pillow. “Jenny, are you asleep?” Francesca opened the door without knocking, and came close to the bed. She felt for her friend’s face in the dark and stroked it. “Tired?” “No. I am going to get up now.” “When did you come home?” “About three o’clock. I went to Prati for a bath before lunch and ate at the Ripetta, you know, and when I came home I went to bed at once. I am thoroughly rested. I’ll get up now.” “Wait a moment. It’s very cold; let me light the fire.” Francesca lighted the lamp on the table. “Why not call the signora? Oh, Cesca, come here, let me look at you.” Jenny sat up in bed. Francesca placed the lamp on the table by the bed and turned slowly round in the light of it. She had put on a white blouse with her green skirt and thrown a striped scarf about her shoulders. Round her neck she wore a double row of deep red corals, and long, polished drops hung from her ears. She pulled her hair laughingly from her ears to show that the drops were tied to them by means of darning wool. “Fancy, I got them for sixty-eight lire—a bargain, wasn’t it? Do you think they suit me?” “Capitally! With that costume, too. I should like to paint you as you are now.” “Yes, do. I can sit to you if you like—I’m too restless nowadays to work. Oh dear!” She sighed and sat down on the bed. “I had better go and bring the coal.” She came back carrying an earthenware pot of burning charcoal, and stooped down over the little stove. “Stay in bed, dear, till it gets a little warmer in here. I will make the tea and lay the table. I see you have brought your drawing home. Let me have a look at it.” She placed the board against a chair and held the lamp to it. “I say! I say!” “It is not too bad—what do you think? I am going to make a few more sketches out there. I am planning a big picture, you see—don’t you think it is a good subject, with all the working people and the mule-carts in the excavation field?”