Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - XXI. The Miracle of Sant’Antonio
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his forehead with his finger he went on, “you do
not see straighter than your ex-patients in the
Salpêtrière, the trouble is evidently catching.
Make an effort to see things as they are in reality
and not in your dreams. At the rate you are
going your stocking will be empty in a month’s
time, and so far I saw no trace of a single room to
live in, I saw nothing but half-finished loggias,
terraces, cloisters and pergolas. With what are
you going to build your house?”
“With my hands.”
“Once established in your house, what are
you going to live on?”
“Macaroni.”
“It will cost at least half a million to build
your San Michele as you see it in your imagination,
where are you going to get the money from?”
I was dumbfounded. I had never thought of
it, it was altogether a new point of view.
“What on earth am I going to do?” I said at
last staring at my friend.
“I will tell you what you are to do,” said my
friend with his resolute voice. “You are to stop
work at once on your crazy San Michele, clear
out of your whitewashed room and since you
decline to return to Paris, you are to go to Rome
to take up your work as a doctor. Rome is the
very place for you. You need only spend the
winters there, you will have the long summers to
go on with your building. You have got San
Michele on the brain but you are not a fool, or at
least most people have not found it out so far.
You have besides luck in everything you lay your
hands on. I am told there are forty-four foreign
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