ead the book with concentrated attention.

"How did it strike you?" said Yarza.

"There are many things in it I don't agree with; I shall have to think
over them again."

"All right. Then keep my _Enchiridion_ and go on to London. Paris is a
city that has finished. It is not worth the trouble of losing one's time
staying here."

Caesar went to London, always with the firm intention of going into
something. From time to time he wrote a long letter to Ignacio
Alzugaray, telling him his impressions of politics and financial
questions.

While he was in London his sister joined him and invited him to go to
Florence; two years later she begged him to accompany her to Rome.
Caesar had always declined to visit the Eternal City, until, on that
occasion, he himself showed a desire to go to Rome with his sister.

IV. PEOPLE WHO PASS CLOSE BY

_THE SAN MARTINO YOUNG LADIES_

Arrived at Rome, Laura and Caesar went up to the hotel, and were
received by a bald gentleman with a pointed moustache, who showed them
into a large round salon with a very high ceiling.

It was a theatrical salon, with antique furniture and large red-velvet
arm-chairs with gilded legs. The enormous mirrors, somewhat tarnished
by age, made the salon appear even larger. On the consoles and cabinets
gleamed objects of majolica and porcelain.

The big window of this salon opened on the Piazza Esedra di Termini.
Caesar and Laura looked out through the glass. It was beginning to rain
again; the great semi-circular extent of the square was shining with
rain.

The passing trams slipped around the curve in the track; a caravan of
tourists in ten or twelve carriages in file, all with their umbrellas
open, were preparing to visit the monuments of Rome; strolling pedlars
were showing them knick-knacks and religious gewgaws.

Caesar's and Laura's rooms were got ready and the manager of the hotel
asked them again if they had need of nothing else.

"What are you going to do?" said Laura to her brother.

"I am going to stretch myself out in bed for a while."

"Lunch at half-past twelve."

"Good, I will get up at that time."

"Good-bye, _bambino_. Have a good rest. Put on your black suit to come
to the table."

"Very well." Caesar stretched himself on the bed, slept off and on,
somewhat feverish from fatigue, and at about twelve he woke at the noise
they made in bringing his luggage into the room. He got up to open the
trunks, washed and dressed,