Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part one - VII
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the table with daisies; the macaroni was quite ready, but the
others had to wait until they came back with the decorations.
The food was good and the wine was excellent; Cesca had
brought fruit, and coffee, which she was going to make herself,
to make sure it should be good. After dinner Miss Palm and
Heggen investigated marble reliefs and inscriptions that had
been found on the site and fitted into the masonry of the house.
After a while they disappeared round a corner. Ahlin
remained sitting at the table smoking, his eyes half shut against
the glare.
The osteria lay at the foot of a small hill. Gram and Jenny
walked up the slope at random. She picked small wild flowers
that grew in the yellow earth.
“There are masses of these at Monte Testaccio. Have you
been there, Mr. Gram?”
“Yes, several times. I went there yesterday to have a look
at the Protestant cemetery. The camelia trees are covered with
blossoms, and in the old part I found anemones in the grass.”
“Yes, they are out now. Somewhere at Via Cassia, beyond
Ponte Molle, there are lots of them. Gunnar gave me some
almond blossoms this morning; they have them already at the
Spanish stairs, but I daresay they are forced.”
They reached the top and began strolling about. Jenny
walked with her eyes on the ground; the short grass was
springing up everywhere, and variegated thistle-leaves and some big,
silver-grey ones were basking in the sun. They walked
towards a solitary wall, which rose out of a mound of gravel; the
Campagna extended around them in every direction, grey-green
below the light spring skies and the warbling larks. Its
boundaries were lost in the haze of the sun. The city beyond them
seemed a mirage only, the mountains and the clouds melted
together, and the yellow arches of the canal appeared, only to
vanish again in the mist. The countless ruins were reduced
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