656
PARTISAN REVIEW
they paused to catch their breath and look around. Anacapri, mo–
mentarily at their backs, stood reassuringly behind a barrier of
green, looking like an Arab city, with its terraces, bell tower and
gray-domed church. Giacomo pointed to the shrunken lighthouse on
the promontory below, profiled against the threatening storm.
"Just think, we were way down there!" he murmured.
"I can't wait to be home," said Simona, perhaps with the
thunder and lightning in mind. Then, meeting Giacomo's eyes, she
added with hesitant coquetry: "What about you?"
"I agree," he answered in a low voice, with emotion.
The climb was over, and all they had to do now was follow
the level path to their rented house, which was well this side of
Anacapri. They walked by the wall around the Munthe villa, along
a meadow planted with oak trees, and there, just around a bend,
was the white wall of their house and the rusty iron gate in the shade
of a carob tree with pods hanging all over it. The clouds were
straight above them now, and it was as dark as evening. Simona
hurriedly pushed open the gate and went ahead without waiting for
her husband to follow. Giacomo walked more slowly down the marble
steps among the cactus plants.
As
he went, there was another rumble
of thunder, louder this time, like an overturned wagonload of stones
rolling down a hill. From inside the house Simona called back:
"Shut the door tight!"
The house was on a hillside, set back among the trees, and
consisted of four roughly furnished rooms. Giacomo made his way
in amid almost complete darkness. There was no electric light, but
kerosene lamps of various shapes and colors were lined up on the
hall table. He lifted the glass off one of these, lit a match, touched
it to the wick, put back the glass and entered the dining room. No
one was there, but he could hear Simona moving in the room next
to it. He did not wish to join her immediately, and feeling thirsty
he poured himself a glass of white wine. Finally he picked up the
lamp and went to the bedroom door. The bedroom, too, was almost
dark. The window giving onto the garden was open, and through
it, in what light was left among the shadows, he could make out the
terrace surrounded by lemon trees planted in big pots. Simona, in a
dressing gown, was tidying the still unmade bed. He set the lamp
down on the bedside table and said:
"Are you still afraid of the lightning?"
