"I am very much obliged to you, my dear Orsino," he said. "There is an abominable crowd here, which means an unusual number of people to avoid—just as many as I know, in fact, excepting yourself."
"I am glad you do not wish to avoid me, too," observed Orsino, by way of saying something.
"You are a less evil—so I choose you in preference to the greater," Spicca answered. But there was a not unkindly look in his sunken eyes as he spoke.
He tipped the great flask of Chianti that hung in its swinging plated cradle in the middle of the table, and filled two glasses.
"Since all that is good has been abolished, let us drink to the least of evils," he said, "in other words, to each other."
"To the absence of friends," answered Orsino, touching the wine with his lips.
Spicca emptied his glass slowly and then looked at him.
"I like that toast," he said. "To the absence of friends. I daresay you have heard of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. Do they still teach the dear old tale in these modern schools? No. But you have heard it—very well. You will remember that if they had not allowed the serpent to scrape acquaintance with them, on pretence of a friendly interest in their intellectual development, Adam and Eve would still be inventing names for the angelic little wild beasts who were too well-behaved to eat them. They would still be in paradise. Moreover Orsino Saracinesca and John Nepomucene Spicca would not be in daily danger of poisoning in this vile cookshop. Summary ejection from Eden was the first consequence of friendship, and its results are similar to this day. What nauseous mess are we to swallow to-night? Have you looked at the card?"
Orsino laughed a little. He foresaw that Spicca would not be dull company on this particular evening. Something unusually disagreeable had probably happened to him during the day. After long and melancholy hesitation he ordered something which he believed he could eat, and Orsino followed his example.
"Are all your people out of town?" Spicca asked, after a pause.