go to Capri.»
«I would like you to see Abruzzi and visit my family at Capracotta,» said the priest. «Listen tohim talk about the Abruzzi. There’s more snow there than here. He
doesn’t want to see peasants. Let him go to centres of culture and civilization.» «He should have finegirls. I will give you the addresses of places in Naples.
Beautiful young girls­­accompanied by their mothers. Ha! Ha! Ha!» The captain spread his hand open, the thumb up and fingers outspread as when you make shadow pictures. There was a shadow from his hand on the wall. He spoke again in pidgin Italian. «You go

away like this,» he pointed to the thumb, «andcome back like this,» he touched the little finger. Every one laughed.
«Look,» said the captain. He spread the handagain. Again the candle­light made its shadows on the wall. He started with theupright thumb and named in their order the thumb and four fingers, «soto­tenente(thethumb), tenente (first finger), capitano (next finger), maggiore (next to the little finger), and tenentecolonello (thelittle finger). You go away soto­tenente! You come back soto­colonello!» They alllaughed. The captain was having a great success with finger games. He looked at the priest and shouted, «Every night priest five against one!» They alllaughed again.

«You must go on leave at once,» the major said.
«I would like togo with you and show you things,» the lieutenant said. «When you come back bring a phonograph.»
«Bring good opera disks.» «Bring Caruso.»
«Don’t bring Caruso. He bellows.»
«Don’t you wish you could bellow like him?» «He bellows. I say he bellows!»
«I would like you to go to Abruzzi,» thepriest said. Theothers were shouting. «There is good hunting. You would like thepeople and though it is cold it is clear and dry. You could stay with my family. My fatheris a famous hunter.»
«Come on,» said the captain. «We go whorehouse before it shuts.» «Good­night,» I said tothe priest.
«Good­night,»he said.

3

When I came back to the front we stilllived in that town. There were many more guns in the country around and the springhad come. The fields were green and there were small green shoots on the vines, the trees along the road had smallleaves and a breeze came from the sea. I saw the town with the hill and the old castle above it in a cup in the hills with the mountains beyond, brown mountains with a little green on their slopes. In the town there were more guns, there were some new hospitals, you met British men and sometimes women, on the street, and a fewmore houses had been hit by shell fire.

Jt was warm and like the springand I walked down the alleyway of trees, warmed from the sun on the wall, andfound we still livedin the same house and that it alllooked the same as when I hadleft it. Thedoor was open, there was a soldier sitting on a bench outside in the sun, an ambulance was waiting by the side doorand inside the door, as I went in, there was the smellof marble floors and hospital. It was all as I had left it except that now it was spring. I lookedin the door of the big room and saw the major sitting at his desk, the window open and the sunlight coming into the room. He did not see me and I did not know whether to go in and report or go upstairs first and clean up. I decided to go on upstairs.

The room I shared with the lieutenant Rinaldilooked out on the courtyard. The windowwas open, my bed was made up with blankets and my things hung on the wall, the gas mask in anoblong tin can, the steel helmet on the same peg. At the foot of the bed was my flat trunk, and my winter boots, the leather shiny with oil, were on the trunk. My Austrian sniper’s rifle with its blued octagon barrel and thelovely dark walnut, cheek­ fitted, schutzen stock, hung over the two beds. The telescope that fitted it was, I remembered, locked in the trunk. Thelieutenant, Rinaldi, lay asleep onthe other bed. He wokewhen he heard me in theroom and sat up.

«Ciaou!» he said. «What kind of time did you have?» «Magnificent.»
We shook hands and he put his arm aroundmy neck and kissed me. «Oughf,» I said.
«You’re dirty,»he said.»You ought to wash. Where did you goand what did you do? Tell me everything at once.»
«I went everywhere. Milan, Florence, Rome, Naples, Villa San Giovanni, Messina, Taormina­­»
«You talk like a time­table. Did you have any beautiful adventures?» «Yes.»
«Where?»
«Milano,Firenze, Roma, Napoli­­»
«That’s enough.Tell me really what was the best.» «In Milano.»
«That was because it was first. Where did youmeet her? In the Cova? Where did you go? How did you feel? Tell me everything at once. Did you stay allnight?»
«Yes.»
«That’s nothing. Here now we have beautiful girls. New girls never been to the front before.»
«Wonderful.»
«You don’t believe me?We will gonow this afternoonand see. Andin the town we have beautiful English girls. I am now in lovewith Miss Barkley. I will take you to call. I will probably marry Miss Barkley.»
«I have to get washed and report. Doesn’t anybody work now?»
«Since you are gone we have nothing but frostbites, chilblains, jaundice, gonorrhea, self­inflicted wounds, pneumonia and hard and soft chancres. Every week some one gets wounded by rock fragments. There are a few real wounded. Next week the war starts again. Perhaps it start again. They say so. Do you think I would do right to marry Miss Barkley­­after the war of course?»
«Absolutely,» I said andpoured the basin full of water.
«To­night you will tell me everything,» said Rinaldi. «Now I must go back to sleep to be freshand beautiful for Miss Barkley.»
I took off my tunic and shirt and washedin the cold water in the basin.While I rubbed myself witha towel I looked around the room and out the window and at Rinaldi lying with his eyes closed on the bed. He was good­looking, was my age, and he came from Amalfi. He loved being a surgeon and we were great friends. While I was looking at him he opened his eyes.
«Have you any money?»

«Yes.»
«Loan me fifty lire.»
I dried my hands and took out my pocket­book from the insideof my tunic hanging on the wall. Rinalditook the note, folded it without risingfrom the bed and slid it in his breeches pocket. He smiled, «I must make on Miss Barkley the impression of a man of sufficient wealth. You are my great and good friend and financialprotector.»
«Go to hell,» I said.

That night at the mess I sat next to the priest and he was disappointed and suddenly hurt that I had not gone to the Abruzzi. He had written tohis father that I was coming and they had made preparations. I myself felt as badly as hedid and could not understand why I had not gone. It was what I had wanted to do and Itried to explain how one thinghad led to anotherand finally he saw it and understood that I hadreally wanted to go and it was almost all right. I had drunk much wine and afterward coffee and Strega and I explained, winefully, how we did not do the things we wanted to do; we never did such things.

We two were talking while the others argued. I had wanted to go to Abruzzi. I had gone tono place where the roads were frozen and hard as iron, where it was clear cold and dry and the snow was dry and powdery and hare­tracks in the snow and the peasants took off their hats and called youLord and there was good hunting. I had gone to no such place but to the smoke of cafés and nights when the roomwhirled and you needed tolook at the wall to make it stop, nights in bed, drunk, when you knew that that was allthere was, and the strange excitement of waking and not knowing who it was with you, and the world all unrealin the dark and so exciting that you must resume again unknowing and not caringin the night, sure that this was all and all and all and not caring.

Suddenly to care very much and to sleep to wake with it sometimes morning and all that hadbeen there gone and everything sharp and hard and clear and sometimes a dispute about the cost. Sometimes still pleasant and fond and warm and breakfast and lunch. Sometimes all niceness gone and glad to get out on the street but always another day starting and then another night. I triedto tell about the night and the difference between the night andthe day and how the night was betterunless the day was very clean and cold and I could not tellit; as I cannot tellit now.

But if you have had it you know. He had not hadit but he understood that I had really wanted to go tothe Abruzzi but had not gone and we were still friends, with many tastes alike, but with the difference between us. He had always known what I did not know and what, when I learned it, I was always able to forget. But I did not know that then, although I learnedit later. Inthe meantime we were all at the mess, the meal was finished, and the argument went on. We two stopped talkingand the captain shouted,»Priest not happy. Priest not happy without girls.»

«I am happy,» said thepriest.
«Priest not happy. Priest wants Austrians to win the war,» the captain said. The others listened. The priest shook his head.
«No,» he said.
«Priest wants us neverto attack. Don’t you want us never to attack?» «No. If there