Next, the roast, with red wine, then politics came up, as it always does with the British: and I knew that this subject would entertain us until the moment the guest took his leave. I had no desire to speak about politics that night. It would have taken me back fatally to the troubles of the present. Indeed the conversation narrowed down, turned local, and by the time the fruit arrived, all we talked about was Italy. Or rather, the Italians. And our guest, who was a hearty drinker, felt so comfortable in our house that he was almost led to believe – also since he could express himself quickly in his own language – that he was among old friends. That is to say, he spoke about the Italians the same way he would once he was back home and dining at the club. Nothing he said was inexact. He really was a good man. The only thing he said was, ‘You Italians are like this and like that.’ And since he was filled with the best intentions and wanted above all to be courteous, every so often he would repeat, ‘Do you mind,’ asking if he could speak freely, and we would answer, ‘Please, go right ahead.’ Nothing he said was bad, I repeat. Not even a tenth of what we tend to say about ourselves. At a certain point, in a paternal and affectionate way, he said, ‘You have to wait for the world to form a better opinion of you, or rather for it to regain a certain trust after the twenty years of Fascism. For the moment, it’s best not to rush things. You have to work hard and demonstrate through your politics, through your civilization, that you’re a people who deserve to be helped. In the meantime, the friends of Italy – and I count myself among them – will work for you, lend you a hand.’ He smiled, waiting for us to thank him, to say something to him, or at least to smile ourselves. I couldn’t bear it any more. Under cover of the long drop of the tablecloth, I twisted my fingers, one by one, until my knuckles cracked. I couldn’t stand the idea that we were still a people to be judged, a people to whom any old Captain Smith felt obliged to deliver his opinion. At that moment he was adding that we were a population of good people, despite some of our shortcomings – Do you mind? But it’s true, isn’t it? Please, go right ahead – despite some of our mistakes. A people that deserved to be helped. And I lowered my eyes, humiliated at the thought that we, that all of us – all forty-five million healthy and very intelligent people – really did need the help of Captain Smith.