PARTISAN REVIEW
theory, he was marxist in personal matters, having no interest in
people's opinions, or even, perhaps, in their emotions (the super–
structure), but passionately, madly curious as to what people did
and how they made their money (the base). He did not intend that
Mr. Sciarappa (he had presented
his
card) should linger forever in
Paris adding up the lunch bill of the Egyptian delegate's wife. Having
lain
couchant
for the ten minutes that human politeness required, he
sprang into the conversation with a question: did the
signor
have
an interest in the silk mills at Como? And now the visitor betrayed
the first signs of nervousness. The question had suggested knowledge
that was at least second-hand. The answer remained obscure. Mr.
Sciarappa did not precisely own a factory, nor was he precisely in
the exporting business. The two friends, who were not lacking in
common humanity, precipitately turned the subject to the beauty
of Italian silks, the superiority of Italian tailoring to French or even
English tailoring, the chic of Italian men. The moment passed, and
a little later, under the pretense of needing her help as a translator,
Mr. Sciarappa showed the young lady a cablegram dated London
which seemed to be a provisional order for a certain quantity of
something, but the garbled character of the English suggested that
the cable had been composed-in London-by Mr. Sciarappa himself.
Nevertheless, the Americans accepted the cablegram as a proof of
their visitor's
bona fides,
though actually it proved no more than that
he was in business, that is, that he existed in the Italy of the post-war
world.
The troubled moment, in fact, had its importance for them only
in retrospect. A seismographic recording of conditions in the com–
partment would have shown only the faintest tremor. The desire to
believe the best of people is a prerequisite for intercourse with
strangers; suspicion is reserved for friends. The young lady in parti–
cular, being gregarious, took the kindest view of everyone; she was
under the impression that she was the only person in the world who
told lies. The young man today fell in with her gullibility, with her
"normal" interpretations of life, because he saw that they were head–
ing for friendship with Mr. Sciarappa and felt as yet no positive
objections to the idea. They were alone in Italy; a guide would be
useful. Moreover, Mr. Sciarappa had announced that he was going
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