“Susanna said to me: ‘I have some inclination for you, but I don’t know
you well enough. If you feel the same way, come with me. Let us travel
together? I am with her, and nevertheless I am convinced that what I am
doing is a piece of stupidity.
“We spent this Sunday morning in the train. In the country we saw men at
work with great oxen that had long twisted horns. In a swampy field some
labourers were draining the ground with great effort. From the train we
saw the island of Elba, and Capraia, and the sea as blue as indigo.
“_‘Mare nostro,’_ said an elegant gentleman in a fluty voice, and
pointed out something on the horizon which he said was Corsica, and he
said that it can be seen from far away.
“While all we useless, unoccupied persons gathered in the dining-car,
the people in the fields kept on working, bent over in the mud, draining
the marshes.
“‘What a lot of effort those poor devils have to make to keep us alive.’
I said.
“‘We are not kept alive by them,’ retorted Susanna.
“‘No, we live off of other slaves, who work for us,’ I answered her.
‘Those out there serve to feed the officers, the effeminate priestlings,
all the people that take part in the theatrical performance of the
Vatican. Those unfortunates help to uphold the eight basilicas and the
three hundred odd churches of Rome.’
“Susanna shrugged her shoulders and smiled.”