第6章 (第2/3页)
presence of nine hundred and eighty-seven people, in the middle of a speech. Do you wonder that his eyes popped! I see that you have managed to read at least one of the books I brought you - if the rumpled jacket is any criterion.'
'Yes. The mountain one. It was a godsend. I lay for hours looking at the pictures. Nothing puts things in perspective as quickly as a mountain.'
'The stars are better, I find.'
'Oh, no. The stars merely reduce one to the status of an amoeba. The stars take the last vestige of human pride, the last spark of confidence, from one. But a snow mountain is a nice human-size yard-stick. I lay and looked at Everest and thanked God that I wasn't climbing those slopes. A hospital bed was a haven of warmth and rest and security by comparison, and The Midget and The Amazon two of the highest achievements of civilization.'
'Ah, well, here are some more pictures for you.'
Marta up-ended the quarto envelope she was carrying, and spilled a collection of paper sheets over his chest.
'What is this?'
'Faces,' said Marta, delightedly. 'Dozens of faces for you. Men, women, and children. All sorts, conditions, and sizes.'
He picked a sheet off his chest and looked at it. It was an engraving of a fifteenth-century portrait. A woman.
'Who is this?'
'Lucrezia Borgia. Isn't she a duck.'
'Perhaps, but are you suggesting that there was any mystery about her?'
'Oh, yes. No one has ever deci
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