So they packed their boxes and set their faces Northward. Estelle Hagerup had proposed a stop at Assisi and a deviation to Perugia, but Astrid yawningly declared she had seen enough churches to last her the rest of her life, and Ragna was too indifferent to care, so the proposition was overruled and it was decided to take the journey direct.
They drove to the railway station through a steady downpour, the rain dripped from the roofs, spattered up from the pavements, ran in streams from the umbrellas of the few passers-by in the streets.
"Well," said Astrid, "if this is Sunny Italy, give me Christiania!"
They had installed themselves in an empty second-class compartment and thought to keep it to themselves, but just as the guard was vociferating for the third time "Pronti!" and "Partenza!" the door was flung open and a man got in. He was of middle height, neither stout nor thin, and might have been of any age between thirty and fifty. His dark grizzled hair was brushed back from a high, rather prominent forehead, and his dark grey eyes looked out with a kindly expression from behind a gold-mounted pince-nez. He had a good nose and his mouth was firm and well modelled, though partially hid by his short moustache and dark beard. He bowed to the ladies and having bestowed a heavy valise in the rack above his head, settled himself to read a newspaper which he drew from his pocket. Ragna noticed his hands which were well-shaped and had the suppleness and delicacy of touch belonging to medical men, especially surgeons—also they were scrupulously well-kept.
The train moved out slowly over the Campagna, towards the hills, and Ragna leaned out the window, taking a last look at the city where she had left faith and innocence. As the city receded in the misty distance, the Pagan relics disappeared; the dome of St. Peter's towered mystically above the town, drawing the eye irresistibly, seeming to say: "All else passes, but I the Faith of the Ages, I remain." Then a heavy curtain of rain swept down, obscuring the view, and she sank back in her seat. The train swerved round a curve, and with the change of direction the rain blew in at the open window; Ragna tugged at the strap, trying to raise it, but it resisted her efforts.
"Allow me," said a voice over her shoulder, in French; it was the man of the newspaper. He took the strap from her hands, and with a jerk sent the refractory pane into place.
"It is a wet day," he remarked as though he felt called upon to apologise for the climate. "I regret that ces dames should be seeing Italy in such unfavourable circumstances."
Fru Bjork answered him. "Indeed, we cannot complain, we have had such beautiful weather until quite recently."
"Mesdames have been long in Rome?"
"Three months."