"Ah, you are wonderfully like me!" I said, laughing. "That was just my
state of mind. I wanted tremendously to please her." He dropped his
hand and looked away, smiling, but with an air of ingenuous confusion
which quickened my interest in him. "You don't know what to make of me,"
I pursued. "You don't know why a stranger should suddenly address you in
this way and pretend to read your thoughts. Doubtless you think me a
little cracked. Perhaps I am eccentric; but it's not so bad as that. I
have lived about the world a great deal, following my profession, which
is that of a soldier. I have been in India, in Africa, in Canada, and I
have lived a good deal alone. That inclines people, I think, to sudden
bursts of confidence. A week ago I came into Italy, where I spent six
months when I was your age. I came straight to Florence--I was eager to
see it again, on account of associations. They have been crowding upon
me ever so thickly. I have taken the liberty of giving you a hint of
them." The young man inclined himself a little, in silence, as if he had
been struck with a sudden respect. He stood and looked away for a moment
at the river and the mountains. "It's very beautiful," I said.
"Oh, it's enchanting," he murmured.
"That's the way I used to talk. But that's nothing to you."