Colomba by Prosper Mérimée
page 15 of 185 (08%)
page 15 of 185 (08%)
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"My daughter," said the colonel, "delights in everything that is out of
the common, and for that reason she did not care much for Italy." "The only place in Italy that I know," said Orso, "is Pisa, where I was at school for some time. But I can not think, without admiration, of the Campo-Santo, the Duomo, and the Leaning Tower--especially of the Campo-Santo. Do you remember Orcagna's 'Death'? I think I could draw every line of it--it is so graven on my memory." Miss Lydia was afraid the lieutenant was going to deliver an enthusiastic tirade. "It is very pretty," she said, with a yawn. "Excuse me, papa, my head aches a little; I am going down to my cabin." She kissed her father on the forehead, inclined her head majestically to Orso, and disappeared. Then the two men talked about hunting and war. They discovered that at Waterloo they had been posted opposite each other, and had no doubt exchanged many a bullet. This knowledge strengthened their good understanding. Turning about, they criticised Napoleon, Wellington, and Blucher, and then they hunted buck, boar, and mountain sheep in company. At last, when night was far advanced, and the last bottle of claret had been emptied, the colonel wrung the lieutenant's hand once more and wished him good-night, expressing his hope that an acquaintance, which had begun in such ridiculous fashion, might be continued. They parted, and each went to bed. CHAPTER III |
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