I feel as if the
moonlit air were charged with the secrets of the masters, and as if,
standing here in religious attention, we might--we might witness a
revelation!" Perceiving at this moment, I suppose, my halting
comprehension reflected in my puzzled face, this interesting rhapsodist
paused and blushed. Then with a melancholy smile, "You think me a
moonstruck charlatan, I suppose. It's not my habit to bang about the
piazza and pounce upon innocent tourists. But tonight, I confess, I am
under the charm. And then, somehow, I fancied you too were an artist!"
"I am not an artist, I am sorry to say, as you must understand the term.
But pray make no apologies. I am also under the charm; your eloquent
remarks have only deepened it."
"If you are not an artist you are worthy to be one!" he rejoined, with an
expressive smile. "A young man who arrives at Florence late in the
evening, and, instead of going prosaically to bed, or hanging over the
traveller's book at his hotel, walks forth without loss of time to pay
his devoirs to the beautiful, is a young man after my own heart!"
The mystery was suddenly solved; my friend was an American! He must have
been, to take the picturesque so prodigiously to heart.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25