Little by little he
understood. He was alone; an acetylene lamp was shining in his face. The
door on his right was open and the footman was speaking to him. What was
he saying? Where should they drive? To Villa Mayda? Yes, certainly, to
Villa Mayda. Could not that light be extinguished? The servant put it
out, and spoke of a paper. What paper? A paper the Signora had placed
in the inside pocket of the _coupe_, ordering him to give it to the
gentleman. Benedetto did not understand, or see. The footman took the
paper and slipped it into Benedetto's pocket. Then he inquired about the
gentleman's health, as his masters--this time he said 'his masters'--had
ordered him to do. If he had seen him lying dead this scrupulous
individual would have carried out the order just the same. Instead of
answering, Benedetto begged that a little water might be brought to him.
The footman fetched some from a neighbouring _cafe_ and Benedetto drank
it eagerly, experiencing great relief. As he took the empty cup from
him, the footman thought it best to complete his message:
"The Signora ordered me to tell you, if you inquired, that they sent the
carriage because they knew you were not well, and they thought that in
this place and at this hour it would be impossible for you to find one.
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