Then they went to see the Abbé Tardieu. The abbé lived in the Piazza. Navona. His office, furnished in modern style, produced the effect of a violent contrast with Cardinal Spada’s sumptuous study, and yet brought it to mind. The Abbé Tardieu’s work-room was small, worldly, full of books and photographs.
The abbé, a tall young man, thin, with a rosy face, a long nose, and a mouth almost from ear to ear, had the air of an astute but jolly person, and laughed at everything said to him. He was liveliness personified. When they entered his office he was writing and smoking.
Cæsar explained about his financial knowledge, and how he had gone on acquiring it, until he got to the point where he could discern a law, a system, in things where others saw nothing more than chance. The Abbé Tardieu promised that if he knew a way to utilize Cæsar’s knowledge, he would send him word. In respect to giving him letters of introduction to influential persons in Spain, he had no objection.
They took leave of the abbé.
“All this has to go slowly,” said Kennedy.
“Of course. One cannot insist that it should happen all at once.”
BERNINI
“If you have nothing to do, let’s take a walk,” said the Englishman.
“If you like.”
“Have you noticed the fountains in this square?”