He understood my desire to get away; but--Catanzaro! Was I aware that at Catanzaro I should suddenly find myself in a season of most rigorous winter?
And the winds! One needed to be very strong even to stand on one's feet at Catanzaro.

For all this I returned thanks, and, having paid my bill, tottered back to the _Concordia_.

It seemed to me more than doubtful whether I should start on the morrow.
That evening I tried to dine.

Don Ferdinando entered as usual, and sat mute through his unchanging meal; the grumbler grumbled and ate, as perchance he does to this day.

I forced myself to believe that the food had a savour for me, and that the wine did not taste of drugs.