“Ugh! German doctors are not nice, are they?” Helge smiled, embarrassed. “Perhaps not, but we have some interests in common, and when one goes about without having anybody to talk to....” “Yes, but you must make up your mind to speak Italian; you know the language, don’t you? Come for a walk with me and we will talk Italian all the way. I shall be a very strict _maestra_, you will see.” “Thank you very much, Miss Jahrman, but I am afraid you will not find me very entertaining—except unwittingly perhaps.” “Rubbish! Look here, I’ve got an idea! Two old Danish ladies left for Capri the day before yesterday. Their room may be vacant still. I am sure it is. A nice little room and cheap. I don’t remember the name of the street, but I know where it is. Shall I go with you and have a look at it? Come along.” On the stairs she turned round and smiled awkwardly at him: “I was awfully rude to you the other evening, Mr. Gram. Please accept my apologies.” “My dear Miss Jahrman!” “I was out of sorts that day. You cannot imagine what a scolding I got from Jenny, but I deserved it.” “Not at all. I was to blame for forcing my company upon you, but it was so tempting to speak to you when I saw you and heard that you were Norwegians.” “Of course, an adventure like that could be great fun, but I spoilt it with my bad temper. I was ill, you see. My nerves worry me; I can’t sleep and I can’t work, and then I get horrid sometimes.” “Are you feeling better now?” “Not really. Jenny and Gunnar are working—everybody works but myself. Is your work getting on all right? Aren’t you pleased? Every afternoon I sit to Jenny for my picture. I am having a day off today. I think she does it only to prevent me from being alone with my thoughts. Sometimes she takes me for a ride outside the walls. She is like a mother to me—_Mia cara mammina_.” “You are very fond of your friend?” “I should think so! She is so good to me. I am delicate and spoilt, and nobody but Jenny could stand me in the long run. She is so clever too, intelligent and energetic. And pretty—don’t you think she is lovely? You should see her hair when it is let down! When I am good she lets me do it for her. Here we are,” she said. They mounted a pitch-dark staircase. “You mustn’t mind the stairs; ours are still worse: you will see for yourself when you pay us a visit. Come one evening. We’ll get hold of the others and all go for a proper rag. I spoilt the last one for you.” She rang a bell on the top floor. The woman who opened the door looked nice and tidy. She showed them a room with two beds. It looked out over a grey backyard with washing hanging in the windows, but there were plants on the balconies; loggias and terraces with green shrubs rose above the grey roofs. Francesca went on talking to the woman while she examined the beds and looked into the stove, and explained things to Helge: