"The next day we had another rainstorm—regular deluge. This time it came down in sheets; campos running rivers; gondolas half full of water, everything soaked. I had a room in the top of the Palazzo da Mula on the Grand Canal just above the Salute and within a step of the traghetto of San Giglio. By going out of the rear door and keeping close to the wall of the houses skirting the Fondamenta San Zorzi, I could reach the traghetto without getting wet. The Quadri was the nearest caffè, anyhow, and so I started.
"When I stepped out of the gondola on the other side of the canal and walked up the wooden steps to the level of the Campo, my mysterious friend moved out from under the shadow of the traghetto box and stood where the light from the lantern hanging in front of the Madonna fell upon his face. His eyes, as usual, were fixed on mine. He had evidently been waiting for me.
"I thought I might just as well end the thing then as at any other time. There was no question now in my mind that the fellow meant business.
"I turned on him squarely.
"'You waiting for me?'
"'Yes.'
"'What for?'
"'I want you to go to dinner with me.'
"'Where?'
"'Anywhere you say.'