Leigh?"
"No. I am sorry to have taken up so much of your time," said Aubrey,
"But I think I understand your views--"
"I hope you do," interrupted Gherardi, "And that you will by and by
grasp the fact that my views are shared by almost everyone holding
any Church authority. But you must go about in Rome, and make
enquiries for yourself . . . now, let me see! Do you know the Princesse
D'Agramont?"
"No."
"Oh, you must know her,--she is a great friend of Donna Sovrani's,
and a witty and brilliant personage in herself. She is rather of
your way of thinking, and so is out of favour with the Church. But
that will not matter to you; and you will meet all the dissatisfied
and enthusiastic of the earth in her salons! I will tell her to send
you a card."
Aubrey said something by way of formal acknowledgment, and then took
his leave. He was singularly depressed, and his face, always quick
to show traces of thought, had somewhat lost its former expression
of eager animation. The wily Gherardi had for the time so influenced
his sensitive mind as to set it almost to the tune of the most
despairing of Tennyson's "Two Voices",
"A life of nothings, nothing worth,
From that first nothing ere his birth,
To that last nothing under earth.
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