Orsino was little inclined to share his
architect's despondency for the present.
"You need a change of air," he said, pushing a heap of papers away from
him and lighting a cigarette. "You ought to go down to Porto d'Anzio for
a few days. You have been too long in the heat."
"No longer than you, Don Orsino," answered Contini, from his own table.
"You are depressed and gloomy. You have worked harder than I. You should
really go out of town for a day or two."
"I do not feel the need of it."
Contini bent over his table again and a short silence followed. Orsino's
mind instantly reverted to Maria Consuelo. He felt a violent desire to
leave the office and go to her at once. There was no reason why he
should not visit her in the morning if he pleased. At the worst, she
might refuse to receive him. He was thinking how she would look, and
wondering whether she would smile or meet him with earnest half
regretful eyes, when Contini's voice broke into his meditations again.
"You think I am despondent because I have been working too long in the
heat," said the young man, rising and beginning to pace the floor before
Orsino.
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