He
did what he could to obtain leave in the afternoon or evening, but
his exertions were fruitless. He was a man who was trusted, and
knew it, and the disturbed state of affairs made it necessary that
every man should do precisely what was allotted to him, at the
risk of causing useless complications in the effort to concentrate
and organise the troops which was now going forward. At last he
actually went to the Palazzo Montevarchi in the morning and
inquired if he could see the princess.
The porter replied that she was not visible, and that the prince
had gone out. There was nothing to be done, and he turned to go
away. Suddenly he stopped as he stood under the deep arch, facing
the blank wall on the opposite side of the street. That same wall
was broad and smooth and dark in colour. He only looked at it a
moment, and then to excuse his hesitation in the eyes of the
porter, he took out a cigarette, and lit it before going out. As
he passed through the Piazza Colonna a few minutes later he went
into a shop and bought two large tubes of paint with a broad
brush. That night, when he was relieved from duty, he went back to
the Palazzo Montevarchi. It was very late, and the streets were
deserted. He stood before the great closed doors of the palace and
then walked straight across the street to the blank wall with his
paint and brush in his hands.
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