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PARTISAN REVIEW
was not unthinkable. As soon as he had finished
Severina
he could ex–
plain to me, one by one, the other books he intended writing and tell
me where to find the material . It was fortunate that he liked the
clinic and was attached to the doctor. Constantly supplied with
oxygen, sleeping almost upright, as no one had thought of advising
him to do before, he was no longer racked by coughing; the disease
of his bronchial tubes could never be cured but, being permanently
disinfected, they no longer troubled him . And his kidneys, five
months earlier invisible on the x-ray, had regained their function "to
a spectacular degree," as the doctor would write later in his report.
Already the nurses were scanning the advertisement columns of the
Tribune de Geneve,
to find me a furnished room or a cheap flat, so that
I might settle in Geneva, returning to Rome only now and then, to
search for books and documents or deal with bureaucratic matters .
(How all this could be managed financially was not immediately ap–
parent. )
"Shall we go indoors?" he said. "The time for recreation is over.
I must get back to work."
That afternoon's conversation was to be the last. I do not think
he had any premonition; it was nevertheless strange that he should
have talked at such length about things he normally kept to himself.
That evening- the last- we dined together as usual , eating the
quite different dishes prescribed for our respective diets . We looked
at the news on French television. He smiled with pleasure at seeing
President Pertini, an old friend, on holiday in the Dolomites . Not
finding any other program of interest, he decided to go to bed early,
turning the light off about nine. Only then did I leave and
telephone, as arranged, the Italian vice consul , who took me back to
his house for an hour or two with his family . I had refused their in–
vitation to dine because if Silone had wanted to stay awake until
midnight, as often happened, I would not have left him alone.
Returning late to the clinic, I went upstairs and listened at the
outer door , then closed it behind me while opening the inner door;
the patient was sleeping peacefully. I went to my ground floor room
and fell asleep .
The next day , Friday, August 18, when I went up at seven
o'clock to say good morning, I found him cheerful , smiling, pen in
hand, sorting notes. When I returned for breakfast at eight he had
already shaved, cutting his chin slightly. At this meal he could have
