Veneziano – Paolo and Lorenzo; Bellini – Giovanni and Gentile; Giorgione, more Carpaccio, Titian, Tiepolo, Canaletto, Guardi, Veronese . . . Jomier and Judith study the paintings conscientiously and, every now and then, point out on some canvas a poignant depiction or masterly touch. Jomier drops his pose as connoisseur: it is quite evident that Judith knows more about art than he does – particularly Titian and Tiepolo. Jomier finds that he dislikes the work of both those painters but does not say so: he is not so sure of Judith that he dare risk appearing to be a cultural dunce. He does dare sigh at some point and say: ‘Isn’t it time for lunch?’ ‘Of course,’ says Judith – brought down to earth by Jomier’s carnal needs.

They go to Harry’s Bar. It is now two o’clock. There is a table. The menu lists the dishes on offer in both English and Italian. Jomier is irked to see that a dish offered in Italian does not appear in English translation. He asks the waiter what it is. ‘A Venetian speciality. Not for tourists. You no like.’ The man speaks disdainfully. Jomier’s hackles rise. He orders the dish. The waiter shrugs. Judith chooses a salad. Jomier’s choice, when it arrives, is inedible – chunks of gristle in a viscous sauce. He eats what he can. Judith says nothing. When they have finished, the waiter clears his plate piled with chunks of masticated gristle. His glance and demeanour express what he does not say. ‘Imbecille!’

Both would like to return to their hotel for a siesta but the winter day is short. Daylight fades. Churches, scuole, museums close. They do the Scuola dei Calegheri and Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari before calling it a day. They are back at the Hotel Palazzo Solaia by five. They rest. They read. Jomier catches CNN news at seven. He sees that there are pay-to-view channels with recently released movies and an ‘adult’ option. Jomier is tempted by one of the movies but not by the porn. Why watch when you can do?