Alpha Book

The two men exchanged few words as they drove up to the new quarter in
the direction indicated to the driver by Contini. The cab entered a sort
of broad lane, the sketch of a future street, rough with the unrolled
metalling of broken stones, the space set apart for the pavement being
an uneven path of trodden brown earth. Here and there tall detached
houses rose out of the wilderness, mostly covered by scaffoldings and
swarming with workmen, but hideous where so far finished as to be
visible in all the isolation of their six-storied nakedness. A strong
smell of lime, wet earth and damp masonry was blown into Orsino's
nostrils by the scirocco wind. Contini stopped the cab before an
unpromising and deserted erection of poles, boards and tattered
matting.
"This is our house," he said, getting out and immediately making another
attempt to light his cigar.
"May I offer you a cigarette?" asked Orsino, holding out his case.
Contini touched his hat, bowed a little awkwardly and took one of the
cigarettes, which he immediately transferred to his coat pocket.


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