''I understand,'' the Colonel said. ''But please, Daughter you try to understand my attitude too.
When we have killed so many we can afford to be kind.''
''How many have you killed?''
''One hundred and twenty-two sures.
Not counting possibles.''
''You had no remorse?''
''Never.''
''Nor bad dreams about it?''
''Nor bad dreams.
But usually strange ones.
Combat dreams, always, for a while after combat.
But then strange dreams about places mostly.
We live by accidents of terrain, you know.
And terrain is what remains in the dreaming part of your mind.''
''Don't you ever dream about me?''
''I try to.
But I can't.''
''Maybe the portrait will help.''
''I hope so,'' the Colonel said. ''Please don't forget to remind me to give back the stones.''
''Please don't be cruel.''
''I have my small necessities of honor in the same proportions as we have our great and enveloping love.
You cannot have the one without the other.''
''But you could give me privileges.''
''You have them,'' the Colonel said. ''The stones are in my pocket.''
The Gran Maestro came then with the steak and the scaloppine and the vegetables.
They were brought by a sleek-headed boy who believed in nothing; but was trying hard to be a good second waiter.
He was a member of the Order.
The Gran Maestro served adroitly and with respect both for the food, and those that were to eat it.
''Now eat,'' he said. ''Uncork that Valpolicella,'' he said to the boy who had the eyes of an unbelieving spaniel.
''What do you have on that character?'' the Colonel asked him, referring to his pitted compatriot, sitting chawing at his food, while the elderly woman with him ate with suburban grace.
''You should tell me.
Not me you.''
''I never saw him before today,'' the Colonel said. ''He's hard to take with food.''
''He condescends to me.
He speaks bad Italian assiduously.
He goes everywhere in Baedeker, and he has no taste in either food or wine.
The woman is nice.
I believe she is his aunt.
But I have no real information.''
''He looks like something we could do without.''
''I believe we could.
In a pinch.''
''Does he speak of us?''
''He asked me who you were.
He was familiar with the Contessa's name and had book-visited several palaces that had belonged to the family.
He was impressed by your name, Madam, which I gave to impress him.''
''Do you think he will put us in a book?''
''I'm sure of it.
He puts everything in a book.''
''We ought to be in a book,'' the Colonel said. ''Would you mind, Daughter?''