Whatever happens there must
be coffee and toast. Then I walked the deck and longed for land.
We changed boats at Cherbourg. Then a dreary voyage to Naples. We
hurried through the noise and colorful disorder of Naples and drove by
carriage to Rome. We entered the same gate through which Milton and
Goethe had passed, into the Piazza di Spagna. At the foot of the steps
leading to Trinita di Monti--here where the foreigners stayed, the
English quarter. I found accommodations in a pension. First there was
the unpacking, and little Reverdy had to be kept comforted, if possible;
I must start him in school too. Life must always go on. I became
sensible of many bells. The strange noises of a civilization wholly
unknown to me came up through my window. I looked out upon the Piazza di
Spagna, knowing nothing of its history. Who would be my friends here?
Back of me was nearly a quarter of a century in America and before me
what?
CHAPTER LII
Our pension was all that could be desired. Mr. and Mrs. Winchell were
here from America, from Connecticut. She was about twenty-seven; he was
nearly sixty. They were on their way around the world, stopping in Rome
for some months. She was studying painting under an artist who also
taught etching. In this way I came under the instruction of Luca, who
had a studio not far from the Piazza di Spagna, and also into daily
association with Mrs.
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