“I wish I were there. I always enjoyed our talking.”
“I brought you a few little things,” he said. He picked up the packages. “This is mosquito netting. This is a bottle of vermouth. You like vermouth? These are English papers.”
“Please open them.”
He was pleased and undid them. I held the mosquito netting in my hands. The vermouth he held up for me to see and then put it on the floor beside the bed. I held up one of the sheaf of English papers. I could read the headlines by turning it so the half-light from the window was on it. It was The News of the World.
“The others are illustrated,” he said.
“It will be a great happiness to read them. Where did you get them?”
“I sent for them to Mestre. I will have more.”
“You were very good to come, father. Will you drink a glass of vermouth?”
“Thank you. You keep it. It’s for you.”
“No, drink a glass.”
“All right. I will bring you more then.”
The orderly brought the glasses and: opened the bottle. He broke off the cork and the end had to be shoved down into the bottle. I could see the priest was disappointed but he said, “That’s all right. It’s no matter."
“Here’s to your health, father.”
“To your better health.”
Afterward he held the glass in his hand and we looked at one another. Sometimes we talked and were good friends but to-night it was difficult.
“What’s the matter, father? You seem very tired.”
“I am tired but I have no right to be.”
