He then passed the hot hours of the day in the
office, which, as before, had been established in one of the unfinished
houses. Towards evening, he went down into the city to his home,
refreshed himself after his long day's work, and then walked or drove
until half past eight, when he went to dinner in the garden of a great
restaurant in the Corso. Here he met a few acquaintances who, like
himself, had reasons for staying in town after their families had left.
He always sat at the same small table, at which there was barely room
for two persons, for he preferred to be alone, and he rarely asked a
passing friend to sit down with him.
On a certain hot evening in the beginning of August he had just taken
his seat, and was trying to make up his mind whether he were hungry
enough to eat anything or whether it would not be less trouble to drink
a glass of iced coffee and go away, when he was aware of a lank shadow
cast across the white cloth by the glaring electric light. He looked up
and saw Spicca standing there, apparently uncertain where to sit down
for the place was fuller than usual.
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