Поющие в терновнике

           Theywalkedthroughcorridors,thenthroughpleasantgardensquiteunlikeDrogheda’s,withtallcypressesandpoplars,neatrectanglesofgrasssurroundedbypillaredwalkways,mossyflagstones;pastGothicarches,underRenaissancebridges.Danedrankitin,lovingit.SuchadifferentworldfromAustralia,soold,perpetual.

           Ittookthemfifteenminutesatabriskpacetoreachthepalace;theyentered,andpassedupagreatmarblestaircasehungwithpricelesstapestries.

           VittorioScarbanza,CardinaldiContini-Verchesewassixty-sixnow,hisbodypartiallycrippledbyarheumaticcomplaint,buthismindasintelligentandalertasithadalwaysbeen.Hispresentcat,aRussianbluenamedNatasha,wascurledpurringinhislap.Sincehecouldn’trisetogreethisvisitorshecontentedhimselfwithawidesmile,andbeckonedthem.HiseyespassedfromRalph’sbelovedfacetoDaneO’Neillandwidened,narrowed,fixedonhimstilly.Withinhischesthefelthisheartfalter,putthewelcominghandtoitinaninstinctivegestureofprotection,andsatstaringstupidlyupattheyoungereditionofRalphdeBricassart.

           "Vittorio,areyouallright?"CardinalRalphaskedanxiously,takingthefrailwristbetweenhisfingers,feelingforapulse.

           "Ofcourse.Alittlepassingpain,nomore.Sitdown,sitdown!"

           "First,I’dlikeyoutomeetDaneO’Neill,whoisasItoldyouthesonofaverydearfriendofmine.Dane,thisisHisEminenceCardinaldiContini-Verchese."