came from the salon the notes of a Tzigane
waltz played on the piano.

_ART, FOR DECEIVED HUSBANDS_

Caesar was writing something on the margin of a page when there came a
knock at his door. "Come in," said Caesar.

It was Laura.

"Where are you keeping yourself?" she asked.

"Here I am, reading a little."

"But my dear man, we are waiting for you."

"What for?"

"The idea, what for? To talk."

"I don't feel like talking. I am very tired."

"But, _bambino; Benedetto_. Are you going to live your life avoiding
everybody?"

"No; I will come out tomorrow."

"What do you want to do tonight?"

"Tonight! Nothing."

"Don't you want to go to the theatre?"

"No, no; I have a tremendously weak pulse, and a little fever. My hands
are on fire at this moment."

"What foolishness!"

"It's true."

"So then you won't come out?"

"No."

"All right. As you wish."

"When the weather is good, I will go out."

"Do you want me to fetch you a Baedeker?"

"No, I have no use for it."

"Don't you intend to look at the sights, either?"

"Yes, I will look willingly at what comes before my eyes; it wouldn't
please me if the same thing happened to me that took place in Florence."

"What happened to you in Florence?"

"I lost my time lamentably, getting enthusiastic over Botticelli,
Donatello, and a lot of other foolishness, and when I got back to London
it cost me a good deal of work to succeed in forgetting those things and
getting myself settled in my financial investigations again. So that
now I have decided to see nothing except in leisure moments and without
attaching any importance to all those fiddle-faddles." "But what
childishness! Is it going to distract you so much from your work, from
that serious work you have in hand, to go and see a few pictures or some
statues?"

"To see them, no, not exactly; but to occupy myself with them, yes.
Art is a good thing for those who haven't the strength to live, in
realities. It is a good form of sport for old maids, for deceived
husbands who need consolation, as hysterical persons need morphine...."

"And for strong people like you, what is there?" asked Laura,
ironically.

"For strong people!... Action."

"And you call lying in bed, reading, action?"

"Yes, when one reads with the intentions I read with."

"And what are they? What is it you are plotting?"

"I will tell you."

Laura saw that she could not convince her brother, and returned to the
s