Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part one - VII
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to small, glistening pieces of walls, strewn about on the green,
and pines and eucalyptus trees by the red or ochre houses stood
solitary and dark on this fine day of early spring.
“Do you remember the first morning I was here, Miss Winge?
I imagined I was disappointed, and I believed it to be because
I had longed so much and dreamt so much that everything I
was going to see would be colourless and poor, compared to my
dreams. Have you noticed how on a summer day, when you
lie in the sun with your eyes closed, all colours seem grey and
faded when you first open them? It is because the eyes are
weakened by not being used and cannot at once grasp the
complexity of the colours as they really are; the first impression is
incomplete and poor. Do you understand what I mean?”
Jenny nodded.
“It was my case in the beginning here. I was overwhelmed
by Rome. Then I saw you passing by, tall and fair and a
stranger. I did not pay any attention to Francesca then —
not till we were in the tavern. When I sat there with you,
who were all strange to me — it was really the first time such
a thing happened to me. Up till then my association with
strangers had been only an occasional meeting on my way
between school and home. I was confused; it seemed impossible
to speak to people. I almost longed for home and all it meant
— and I longed for Rome as I knew it from hearsay and from
pictures. I thought I could not settle down to anything but
look at pictures made by others — read books other men had
written — made the best use of the work of others and live in
a world of fiction. I felt desperately lonely among you. You
once said something about being lonely; I understand now what
you meant.
“Do you see that tower over there? I went there yesterday.
It is the remnant of a fortress from the Middle Ages, from
feudal times. There are a good many of them in the city and
round about. You see sometimes an almost windowless wall
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