Read Online Black Bridge by Edward Sklepowich - Free Book Online
Authors: Edward Sklepowich
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why, precisely? Because the Contessa admired him and enjoyed spending time with him, might even be falling in love with him? Because Urbinoâs comfortable relationship with her was endangered?
Or did he sense something essentially false about the man? Actors often possessed an affected manner that had nothing to do with insincerity but was sometimes merely the fruit of discipline. Was this what he was responding to in Bobo?
He must be careful. Yet not so careful that he went too far in the opposite direction and wrote off suspicion as mere unfounded prejudice. No, it wasnât going to be easy.
13
That afternoon Urbino hurried over a bridge near Piazza San Marco, where gondoliers in their straw hats and striped shirts were calling out to tourists. The autumn weather was today more gray than golden. A few drops of warm rain fell as he ducked into the Libreria Sangiorgio.
Bobo was enthroned behind a table with copies of Pomegranate and I See the Sun . A group of people, neither vulgarly large nor embarrassingly small, waited to have him sign their books. Among them were a tense-looking Marie Quimper and her companion, Hugh Moss.
âUrbino dear!â the Contessa called. Radiant in copper-hued silk that subtly complemented Boboâs tweeds, she stood beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other holding an extra Mont Blanc, just as she did at Urbinoâs own signings here. Urbino bought a copy of the two books and got at the end of the line behind Oriana and Flint. Flint seemed jumpy and his eyes were dilated.
âFor my folks back home,â he said, indicating the books in his arms. âThough they certainly donât know Italian and never even heard of this DâAnnunzio guy.â
âThat describes half the people here, Iâm sure,â Oriana said. The two burst into laughter. Orianaâs laugh was her usual operatic one, but Flintâs sounded askew, as if he wasnât in control of it. Livia Festa frowned. She kept shooting glances at the Barone and the Contessaâglances which, if they had been given by one of her own actors, she would most likely have asked to be brought down a few notches, even for the stage.
When their fit of laughter was over, Flint handed Urbino the books in his arms. He dashed through the rain and into the Bauer-Grünwald Hotel on the other side of the bridge.
When he returned ten minutes later, an interval Oriana filled with anecdotes about the Philistinism of Filippoâs family, he said: âWell, Urbino, when are you going to invite me into your inner sanctum?â
He gave his laugh again, which was slightly out of control, his eyes even more dilated now. Urbino saw no way out but to ask him to stop by after the signing. When Oriana, pleased at the apparent rapport between the two men, resumed her anecdotes, Urbino was free to consider the others in the room.
The person he was most surprised to see was Marco Zeoli, who had a full schedule at the thermal spa. Perhaps he had come to be with Harriet, who, however, was standing by herself. If she was indeed in love, today she seemed to be suffering the predictable pains of that state. Like one for whom true love was not running smoothly, she seemed to be finding the enamored states of others unbearable. She scrutinized the Contessa and the Barone with particular discomfort. The one person she didnât look at was Zeoli, a sign that he was the probable source of her affliction.
Urbino shared Harrietâs feelings of exclusion as he approached the table. It wasnât that he wanted to deny the Contessa the gratifications of the heart. He couldnât quite bring himself to call them, even less to think of them, as the gratifications of the flesh. But the Barone wasnât a worthy object of her affections. Instead he seemed the kind of man to take full advantage of them.
Bobo gave Urbino a broad smile when his turn came, and signed the books with a flourish.
âI hope
Or did he sense something essentially false about the man? Actors often possessed an affected manner that had nothing to do with insincerity but was sometimes merely the fruit of discipline. Was this what he was responding to in Bobo?
He must be careful. Yet not so careful that he went too far in the opposite direction and wrote off suspicion as mere unfounded prejudice. No, it wasnât going to be easy.
13
That afternoon Urbino hurried over a bridge near Piazza San Marco, where gondoliers in their straw hats and striped shirts were calling out to tourists. The autumn weather was today more gray than golden. A few drops of warm rain fell as he ducked into the Libreria Sangiorgio.
Bobo was enthroned behind a table with copies of Pomegranate and I See the Sun . A group of people, neither vulgarly large nor embarrassingly small, waited to have him sign their books. Among them were a tense-looking Marie Quimper and her companion, Hugh Moss.
âUrbino dear!â the Contessa called. Radiant in copper-hued silk that subtly complemented Boboâs tweeds, she stood beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other holding an extra Mont Blanc, just as she did at Urbinoâs own signings here. Urbino bought a copy of the two books and got at the end of the line behind Oriana and Flint. Flint seemed jumpy and his eyes were dilated.
âFor my folks back home,â he said, indicating the books in his arms. âThough they certainly donât know Italian and never even heard of this DâAnnunzio guy.â
âThat describes half the people here, Iâm sure,â Oriana said. The two burst into laughter. Orianaâs laugh was her usual operatic one, but Flintâs sounded askew, as if he wasnât in control of it. Livia Festa frowned. She kept shooting glances at the Barone and the Contessaâglances which, if they had been given by one of her own actors, she would most likely have asked to be brought down a few notches, even for the stage.
When their fit of laughter was over, Flint handed Urbino the books in his arms. He dashed through the rain and into the Bauer-Grünwald Hotel on the other side of the bridge.
When he returned ten minutes later, an interval Oriana filled with anecdotes about the Philistinism of Filippoâs family, he said: âWell, Urbino, when are you going to invite me into your inner sanctum?â
He gave his laugh again, which was slightly out of control, his eyes even more dilated now. Urbino saw no way out but to ask him to stop by after the signing. When Oriana, pleased at the apparent rapport between the two men, resumed her anecdotes, Urbino was free to consider the others in the room.
The person he was most surprised to see was Marco Zeoli, who had a full schedule at the thermal spa. Perhaps he had come to be with Harriet, who, however, was standing by herself. If she was indeed in love, today she seemed to be suffering the predictable pains of that state. Like one for whom true love was not running smoothly, she seemed to be finding the enamored states of others unbearable. She scrutinized the Contessa and the Barone with particular discomfort. The one person she didnât look at was Zeoli, a sign that he was the probable source of her affliction.
Urbino shared Harrietâs feelings of exclusion as he approached the table. It wasnât that he wanted to deny the Contessa the gratifications of the heart. He couldnât quite bring himself to call them, even less to think of them, as the gratifications of the flesh. But the Barone wasnât a worthy object of her affections. Instead he seemed the kind of man to take full advantage of them.
Bobo gave Urbino a broad smile when his turn came, and signed the books with a flourish.
âI hope
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