I nodded.
‘Would it surprise you to know that you had been talking to yourself for two solid hours?’
‘But I was—’ I lay back then, a wave of exhaustion sweeping over me. What was the good? How could I possibly explain to this stolid, practical American the mood of elation I’d been in? It would be as difficult to convince him of that as it was to convince him that Shirer was Sansevino. Perhaps he was right anyway. Perhaps my mind was getting out of control. They say it’s possible to believe anything, if you want to. Perhaps I’d wanted to believe that Shirer was Sansevino. No, that didn’t make sense. Perhaps the shock of meeting Shirer suddenly like that had been too much for me.
‘See here, Farrell.’ The American was talking again. ‘I’m over here on a vacation. Tomorrow I’m flying down to Naples. Why don’t you come, too? Just wire your outfit that you’re under doctors’ orders to take a rest. No need to actually go and see a doctor. They’ll never check up. You come down to Naples with me and take a week or so lying out in the sun. What do you say?’
Naples! The blue peace of the Bay came to my mind like a sunny picture postcard. We’d sailed out between Sorrento and the Isle of Capri. We’d been homeward bound then. Perhaps he was right. At least I’d be right away from it all then — from Shirer and Reece and that business of Jan Tucek’s disappearance. Lying in the sun I could forget it all. And then I began to think of Hilda Tucek. Her freckled, determined little face was suddenly there in my mind, desperate and unhappy, accusing me of running away. But I couldn’t help her. There was nothing I could really do to help her. ‘I’ll think it over,’ I said.
But he shook his head. ‘No. You make the decision now. Thinking it over is the worst possible thing. You decide now. Then you’ll sleep.’
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll come.’
He nodded and got to his feet. ‘That’s fine. I’ll fix your passage for the same flight first thing in the morning. Now you just relax and go to sleep. I’ll leave the balcony window open, and mine, too. If you want me, just call out.’
‘It’s very kind of you,’ I muttered.
He glanced at his watch. ‘It’s nearly four. It’ll be light in an hour. Shall I leave the light on?’