"Those are my two reasons."
"Then you have thought about it before?"
"Often."
One should never pass for an imbecile, if one can help it.
"But listen. Surely it is sometimes two o'clock in the afternoon, in
your country?"
"I used that word moment in a pregnant sense," I reply. "Pregnant: when
something is concealed or enclosed within. What is enclosed within this
moment? Our friendly conversation."
"But listen. Surely folks can converse in your country?"
"They can talk."
"I begin to understand why you come here. It is that difference, which
is new to me, between conversing and talking. Is the difference worth
the long journey?"
"Not to everybody, I daresay."
"Why to you?"
"Why to me? I must think about it."
One should never pass for an imbecile, if one can help it.
"What is there to think about? You said you had thought about it
already.... Perhaps there are other reasons?"
"There may be."
"There may be?"
"There must be. Are you satisfied?"
"Ought I to be satisfied before I have learnt them?"
"I find you rather fatiguing this afternoon. Did you hear about that
murder in Trastevere last night and how the police - - "
"But listen. Surely you can answer a simple question. Why do you come to
Italy...?"
Why does one come here?
A periodical visit to this country seems an ordinary and almost
automatic proceeding - a part of one's regular routine, as natural as
going to the barber or to church.
