“But surely you didn’t keep your head bowed down so low that....”
“My dear Amédée, it’s all very well for you to talk; don’t you know that one can be struck blind with awe? And not only didn’t I dare raise my head, but every time I tried to speak of Anthime, a kind of major-domo, with a species of ruler, gave me a little tap on the back of my neck, which made me bow it again.”
“But at any rate, did he speak to you?”
“Yes, about my book, which he admitted he hadn’t read.”
“My dear Julius,” said Amédée, after a moment’s silence, “what you have just told me is of the highest importance. So you didn’t see him! And from your whole account one thing stands out clear—that there’s a mysterious difficulty about seeing him. Alas! all my cruellest apprehensions are confirmed. Julius, I must now tell you ... but come along here—this street is so crowded....”
He dragged him into an almost deserted vicolo, and Julius, amused rather than otherwise, made no resistance.
“What I am going to confide to you is so grave.... Whatever you do, don’t make any sign. Let’s look as if we weren’t talking about anything important and make up your mind to hear something terrible.—Julius, my dear friend, the person you saw this morning....”
“Whom I didn’t see, you mean.”
“Exactly ... is not the real one.”
“I beg your pardon?”