“It really is pretty; you seem to see the pallor of the saint’s face, the circles under her eyes, the relaxation of all her muscles. Then the angel is a little joker who stands there smiling at the ecstasy of the saint.”
“Yes, that’s true,” said Kennedy; “it is all the more admirable for the very reason that it is tender, sensual, and charming, all at once.”
“However, this sort of thing is not healthy,” murmured Cæsar, “this kind of vision depletes your life-force. One wants to find the same things represented in works of art that one ought to look for in life, even if they are not to be found in life.”
“Good! Here enters the moralist. You talk like an Englishman,” exclaimed Kennedy. “Let us go along.”
“Where?”
“I have to stop in at the French Embassy a moment; then we can go where you like.”
CORNERS OF ROME
They went back to the carriage, and having crossed through the centre of Rome, got out in front of the Farnese Palace.
“I will be out inside of ten minutes,” said Kennedy.
The Farnese Palace aroused great admiration in Cæsar; he had never passed it before. By one of the fountains in the piazza, he stood gazing at the huge square edifice, which seemed to him like a die cut from an immense block of stone.