"My son, Monsieur, gardener to M. Vanozzi, who has the next garden. M. Vanozzi is always away in the Maremma; and he hardly ever comes to Rome. That is why the garden is not very nicely kept. My son goes with him, and I am afraid they will not come back for a very long time," she added, with a sigh.
"He is busily employed, then, with M. Vanozzi."
"Oh, he is a queer man—busy over too many things. I am afraid he spends his time in a bad way.... Ah, my poor boy!"
She took a step towards the door as though she wanted to change the conversation.
"No one lives here, then?" I resumed, stopping her.
"Not a single creature."
"And why is that?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"Listen to me," I said, as I gave her a piastre. "Tell me the truth. A woman comes here."
"A woman? Good Lord!"