She took the girl's hand in a clinging grasp, while she turned smiling to her neighbour the Dane: 'We must be moving to the Villa Borghese--some friends will be meeting us there.

Our train does not go for a long, long while.' 'Does any Roman train ever go ?' said Doctor Jensen, stroking his straw-coloured beard.

'But why leave us, Madame?
Is not one garden as good as another?
What spell can we invent to chain you here ?' He bowed low, smiling fatuously, with his hand on his heart.

He was one of the most learned men in the world.

But about that he cared nothing.