“Any day now.” Harry straightened and reached for the bottle to refill his glass. They’d been drinking it neat, not even bothering with tonic water. “Maybe before you leave. Say, that’s lucky you bought your tickets already. Order’s going out to evacuate.”

“Evacuate?” Iris cried.

“That’s right. Soon as Mussolini declares war, the order goes out from the embassy. All Americans out, no exceptions, except embassy staff.”

“Can’t we stay and volunteer or something?” said Iris.

Harry gaped at her. “Volunteer for what? The Italian Red Cross? Help out the Fascists?”

“Maybe you’ve got a position available at the embassy for me.”

“Iris, don’t be stupid,” said Ruth. “We’re leaving next week. It’s all settled.”

“It’s not settled. I never agreed to go. You went out and bought that ticket without even asking me.”

“I don’t need to ask. We’re going home, that’s all. Christ. What don’t you understand about evacuate?”

“They can’t make us go if we don’t want to. There’s no law. Is there?” Iris looked at Harry.

Harry lit a cigarette and shrugged. “No law against being an idiot that I heard of.”

“Anyway, Italy’s not going to war against us. America’s still neutral, last I checked.”

Ruth shot from her chair and marched to the kitchen.

“What’s all this about?” Harry said.

“Oh, it’s just Ruth. She’s in a big fat hurry to go home, for some reason. I don’t get it.”

Harry spoke slowly. “Well, she’s not wrong, is she? I mean, why the hell are you so determined to stay?”

“I just like Italy, that’s all.”

“But Italy’s going to war, pumpkin. You don’t understand what that means. A country at war, it’s not a place for tourists.”

“Don’t speak to me like I’m a child, Harry.”

Ruth marched back out of the kitchen and planted her hands on her hips. Her face was all lit up. “You’re acting like a child! Like an idiot child! What, you just like Italy? What about how I picked you up off the stairs yesterday, blubbering like a baby because some crummy Blackshirts ripped up a few of your goddamn drawings?”

“Hold on,” said Harry. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing! I shouldn’t’ve been drawing the two of them like that.”

“It wasn’t nothing. You were scared as a wee rabbit, Iris, and if a couple of Blackshirts can scare you like that, you won’t last a week once the soldiers start with the rape and plunder.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous—”

“For God’s sake, Iris,” Harry said, topping up his drink, “just go home with Ruth! Rome’s not going anywhere. What’s keeping you here?”

“I’ll tell you what’s keeping her. Some fellow.”

Harry almost dropped the gin bottle. “Are you kidding me?”