Alberto Moravia
THE WOMAN FROM MEXICO*
It was a warm, rainy day, and the moment he was
out of the house Sergio was aware of his mistake. He had put
on a heayy winter suit, whereas, in this almost tropical weather,
he ought to have been wearing a light spring suit. Moreover,
he had also burdened himself with a winter overcoat, a double–
breasted one, which meant that he had not one, but the equiva–
lent of two, overcoats on
his
chest and belly. In addition he was
wearing a woolen vest under his shirt, next to his skin, woolen
socks on
his
feet and a woolen scarf round
his
neck. He had
hand he held his umbrella, in the other his gloves. He had
moved only a few steps when he began to feel he was accoutred
like a medieval knight.
It
was the fault, he realized, of those
detestable black clouds that formed a confused mass in the sky;
and
also
of
his
mother, who had come while he was dressing to
implore
him,
for goodness' sake, to wrap
himself
up well. For
a moment he thought of going back and reducing
his
burden
of clothes, but he at once gave up the idea: he lived on the top
floor, the lift was not working, and climbing up the stairs with
all
those clothes on him would be too disagreeable an effort.
Nevertheless, the further he walked along the crowded streets,
the more did the discomfort and heat and weight of
his
clothes
• From
The Wayward Wife
by Alberto Moravia, copyright 1960,
by
Martin Seeker
&
Warburg, Ltd., to
be
published in the U .S. this winter
by
Farrar Straus and Cudahy.
.
