The heat was sweltering. Protos was looking out of the window; “Monte Cassino,” he said; “can you see the celebrated convent up there?”
“Yes, I see it,” said Fleurissoire absently.
“You don’t care much for scenery, then?”
“Yes, yes, I do care for it! But how can I take an interest in anything as long as I’m so uneasy? It’s the same at Rome with the sights. I’ve seen nothing; I’ve not tried to see anything.”
“How well I understand you!” said Protos. “I’m like that too; I told you that ever since I’ve been in Rome I’ve spent the whole of my time between the Vatican and the Castle of St. Angelo.”
“It’s a pity, but you know Rome already.”
In this way our travellers chatted.
At Caserta they got down, and went each on his own account to the buffet, to get a sandwich or two and a drink.
“At Naples too,” said Protos, “when we get near his villa we will part company, if you please. You must follow me at a distance; I shall want a little time first, especially if he isn’t alone, to explain who you are and the object of your visit, so you mustn’t come in till a quarter of an hour after me.”
“I’ll take the opportunity of getting shaved. I hadn’t time this morning.”