III
“Well, did you get a letter?” said Jenny Winge when he returned to the entrance hall of the post office, where she had been waiting for him. “Now I will show you which tram to take.”
“Thank you, it is very kind of you.”
The piazza lay white in the sunshine; the morning air was crisp and clear. Carts and people from the side streets were hurrying past.
“You know, Miss Winge, I don’t think I will go home. I am as wide awake as I can be, and I should like to go for a walk. Would you think me intruding if I asked to be allowed to accompany you a little bit of the way?”
“Dear me, no. But will you be able to find the way to your hotel?”
“Oh, I think I can manage it in broad daylight.”
“You will find cabs now everywhere.”
They came out into the Corso, and she told him the names of the palaces. She was always a step or two ahead of him, for she moved with ease between the many people who had already come out on the pavements.