She walked away, leaving me alone with my embarrassment. She joined a little group of fishermen dragging a net to shore. Part of it was still in the water, but it was already obvious that it hadn’t been much of a catch, and the fishermen were cursing quietly among themselves as the sky turned from pink to blue.

“Look!” Arianna cried. “Please!”

And then I saw the magic transforming the morning. An old man was walking on the beach, risking a fall every time he raised his stick to urge on a filthy, aggressive dog with a docked tail.

Arianna opened her fist. She’d kept it shut for four hours.

“Ridiculous,” I said, and with a clumsiness that even now torments me I tried to grab her hand, but she stuck it in the pocket of her raincoat.

By now the skyscrapers of EUR were gleaming in the sun. Arianna shook her hair out impatiently and lowered the sun visor on her side of the car. “Damn,” she said. “I should have worn a pair of dark glasses. Why do I always make the wrong choices? I was so happy at the idea of going to your place, and now I have to go back to Eva!”

That’s what she said, surprising me one last time. So Eva was the sister she was running away from. But in what way was it running away from someone if you spent the evening with them? She said they hadn’t spent the evening together at all. They hadn’t said a single word to each other all evening, hadn’t I noticed?

I didn’t say anything. I was very tired and couldn’t stop shivering. I was at the end of my tether, and all I wanted now was my bed in my room overlooking the valley. Besides, if a day is the time separating the moment you get up from the moment you go back to bed, all I had to do to put an end to this day was to go to bed. Because it had been a god-awful day, truth be told.

“Shall I take you back to your car?” she said when we were back downtown.

A low, piercing sun shot out from above the roofs, splintering on the windows of the buildings, on the fountains, and on the sheet-metal surfaces of the cars. The streets were dry and here and there vast patches of dust indicated where the puddles had been.

“No, thanks,” I said.

We’d reached the slopes of Monte Mario and stopped to give way to a line of men leaving a market. They looked stupid, carrying big bunches of flowers.

“But call me,” she said when we were outside my building.

I looked at her. She was so beautiful it hurt. “Of course,” I said.