U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [340]
cyclamens.
When they got back the restaurant keeper said that the others had gone to the Vil a d'Este, but would come back soon. They drank hot rum and water and tried to dry themselves over a brazier of charcoal in the kitchen.
"We're a fine pair of drowned rats," tittered Anne Eliza-beth. Dick growled, "A pair of precious idiots." By the time the others came back they were warm but stil wet. It was a relief to argue with Barrow who was saying that if the ruling classes of today knew as much about the art of life as those old Italians he wouldn't be a socialist. "I didn't think you were a socialist any more," broke in Anne Elizabeth. "I'm sure I'm not; look how the German socialists have acted in the war and now they try to crybaby and say they wanted peace al along."
"It's possible . . . to rec . . . to reconcile being a so-cialist with faith in our President and . .
. er . . . in democracy," stammered Barrow, going close to her. "We'l have to have a long talk about that, Anne Elizabeth." Dick noticed how his eyes goggled when he looked at her. I guess he's out after her, he said to himself. When they got into the car he didn't care whether Barrow sat
-373-next to her or not. They drove al the way back to Rome in the rain. The next three days were very busy with President Wil-son's visit to Rome. Dick got cards to various official functions, heard a great many speeches in Italian and French and English, saw a great many silk hats and decora-tions and saluted a great deal and got a pain in the back from holding a stiff military posture. In the Roman Forum he was near enough the President's party to hear the short man with black mustaches who was pointing out the ruins of the temple of Romulus, say in stiff English, "Every-thing here bears relation to the events of the great war." There was a hush as the people in the outer groups of dignitaries strained their ears to hear what Mr. Wilson would say.
"That is true," replied Mr. Wilson in a measured voice.
"And we must not look upon these ruins as mere stones, but as immortal symbols." A little appreciative murmur came from the group. The Italian spoke a little louder next time. Al the silk hats cocked at an angle as the dignitaries waited for the Italian's reply. "In America," he said with a little bow, "you have something greater, and it is hidden in your hearts."
Mr. Wilson's silk hat stood up very straight against al the timeeaten columns and the endless courses of dressed stone. "Yes," replied Mr. Wilson, "it is the greatest pride of Americans to have demonstrated the immense love of humanity which they bear in their hearts." As the Presi-dent spoke Dick caught sight of his face past the cocks-feathers of some Italian generals. It was a grey stony cold face grooved like the columns, very long under the silk hat. The little smile around the mouth looked as if it had been painted on afterwards. The group moved on and
passed out of earshot.
That evening at five, when he met Anne Elizabeth
at Ed's apartment he had to tel her al about the official
-374-receptions. He said al he'd seen had been a gold replica of the wolf suckling Romulus and Remus up at the Capitol when the President had been made a Roman citizen, and his face in the forum. "A terrifying face, I swear it's a reptile's face, not warmblooded, or else the face on one of those old Roman politicians on a tomb on the Via Appia.
. . . Do you know what we are, Anne Elizabeth? we're the Romans of the Twentieth Century"; he burst out laughing, "and I always wanted to be a Greek." Anne Elizabeth who was a great admirer of Wilson was annoyed at first by what he was saying. He was nervous and excited and went on talking and talking. For this once she broke her pledge and drank some hot rum with him, as the room was terribly chil y. In the light of the street lamps on the little corner of the Spanish Stairs they could see from Ed's window, they could see the jumbled dark-ness of crowds continual y passing and repassing. "By God, Anne Elizabeth, it's terrible to think about it. . . . You don't know