_PRELUDE_

SUNSET ON ROCCA DI PAPA

_An Hour in the Life of Two Modern Young People_

April, 1909.


Lounging idly in the deserted little waiting-room was the usual shabby,
bored, lonely ticket-seller, prodigiously indifferent to the grave
beauty of the scene before him and to the throng of ancient memories
jostling him where he stood. Without troubling to look at his watch, he
informed the two young foreigners that they had a long hour to wait
before the cable-railway would send a car down to the Campagna. His lazy
nonchalance was faintly colored with the satisfaction, common to his
profession, in the discomfiture of travelers.

Their look upon him was of amazed gratitude. Evidently they did not
understand Italian, he thought, and repeated his information more
slowly, with an unrecognizable word or two of badly pronounced English
thrown in. He felt slightly vexed that he could not make them feel the
proper annoyance, and added, "It may even be so late that the signori
would miss the connection for the last tramway car back to Rome. It is a
long walk back to the city across the Campagna."

They continued to gaze at him with delight. "I've got to tip him for
that!" said the young man, reaching vigorously into a pocket.