among Latins, she found it to a degree that amazed and delighted her.
“People are more interested in each other here than they are at home,” Anne admitted to Lady Fitz-Smith; “and there is such a great variety of people to be interested in.”
“It is probably true,” said the Englishwoman, “but Roman society is fairly ‘dégringolé’ these days. It does not talk so well or dress so well or eat so well as Paris, it lacks the intellect and power of London, it has no solidarity whatever; the Americans have spoiled that. But famous men and women pass through it now and again, and a small part of it is what all society should be: the recreation of the worker, instead of the work of the idle, which is, I believe, the case in America. Your scholars now, your professionals, your men and women of power and culture—I understand that it is impossible to get them to pay a call, and difficult to persuade them even to dine.”
“They are too busy,” said Anne.
“How very odd!” was Lady Fitz-Smith’s comment. “You must come to London, my dear. Why don’t you marry there and make your home there? It would suit you better than America.”
“I love America. I would never marry out of it.”
41
