“Over there, Marco, on the hill.”
“How does one get there?”
“It is a few minutes by the funicular.”
“It must be rather a sad place, Maria?”
“Yes, it is a little sad,” she murmured, raising her hair with her fingers.
“Any people there?”
“Oh, no; four of five persons besides myself.”
“Do you bore yourself there, Maria?”
“A little, as everywhere.”
“Are you going to stop there?”