see. But, of course, so long as your lungs are delicate, you must be
careful."

"Confound my lungs!" exclaimed Marcello with unusual energy. "I believe
that I am much stronger than any of you think."

"I am sometimes inclined to believe it too," Corbario answered
encouragingly.

"And I am quite sure that it would do me good to forget all about them
and live as if there were nothing the matter with me. Don't you think so
yourself?"

Corbario made a gesture of doubt, as if it were possible after all.

"Of course I don't mean dissipation," Marcello went on to say, suddenly
assuming the manner of an elderly censor of morals, simply because he
did not know what he was talking about. "I don't mean reckless
dissipation."

"Of course not," Folco answered gravely. "You see, there are two sorts
of dissipation. You must not forget that. The one kind means dissipating
your fortune and your health; the other merely means dissipating
melancholy, getting rid of care now and then, and of everything that
bores one. That is the harmless sort."

"What they call 'harmless excitement'--yes, that is what I should like
sometimes. There are days when I feel that I must have it. It is as if
the blood went to my head, and my nerves are all on edge, and I wish
something would happen, I don't know what, but something, something!"