"What have I in common with ruins and white peacocks?"

Peter demanded tragically, when Marietta had brought her

much-gesticulated exposition to a close. "Let me impress upon

you once for all that I am not a tripper. As for your castle

--you invite me to a banquet-hall deserted. As for your park, I

see quite as much of it as I wish to see, from the seclusion of

my own pleached garden. I learned long ago the folly of

investigating things too closely, the wisdom of leaving things

in the vague. At present the park of Ventirose provides me

with the raw material for day-dreams. It is a sort of

looking-glass country,--I can see just so far into it, and no

farther--that lies beyond is mystery, is potentiality--terra

incognita, which I can populate with monsters or pleasant

phantoms, at my whim. Why should you attempt to deprive me of so

innocent a recreation?"

"After the return of the family," said Marietta, "the public

will no longer be admitted. Meantime--"

"Upon presentation of my card, the porter will conduct me from

disenchantment to disenchantment. No, thank you. Now, if it

were the other way round, it would be different. If it were

the castle and the park that had gone to Rome, and if the

family could be visited on presentation of my card, I might be

tempted."

"But that would be impossible, Signorino," said Marietta.




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