Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth. She had found the mausoleum underneath a broken monument. He was always doing his best to call her attention to the fact that he was a man of spirit and quality and experience, and she a young and beautiful woman, and that all sorts of constructions upon their relationship were possible, trusting her to go on from that to the idea that all sorts of relationships were possible. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. They trudged along a little hungry, because of the fruitarian refreshments, and mentally very active. F.
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