On seeing him seated there in such composure Prada could not restrain a slight shudder.

Then, as soon as the victoria was again rolling along the road, he exclaimed: "Well, Abbe, that glass of wine will guarantee us against the malaria.

The Pope would soon be cured if he could imitate our example." Santobono's only reply was a growl.

He was in no mood for conversation, but wrapped himself in perfect silence, as in the night which was slowly falling.

And Prada in his turn ceased to speak, and, with his eyes still fixed upon the other, reflected on the course that he should follow.
The road turned, and then the carriage rolled on and on over another interminable straight highway with white paving, whose brilliancy made the road look like a ribbon of snow stretching across the Campagna, where delicate shadows were slowly falling.