“I mean it, Missy. The same way Duke is pure. You’re both outside things in a way I could never be. That’s why Duke and I couldn’t make it. I’m too involved in wanting things. I’m too split. What does coming back to Rome each vacation mean to you? Only the pleasure of being here because your father’s at the Academy. You know who you are, Americans living in Rome as long as his work is here, and after that, back to the States to your house in Connecticut. I’ve never understood where I belong. It tears my whole life apart each time—I mean I go through this absolute trauma of trying to decide here or there: Italian like my father or American like poor Mom. Part of me loves this natural, human life over here and the other part sees that it won’t get me anyplace and that I’ve got to go back and plug into the system over there. God, Missy, it drives me up the wall!”

“You’re too serious, that’s all.”

“I know it! I know! Part of me doesn’t want to be, but I guess the deepest part does.”

Tina frowned as she faced into the lowering sun and aimed a spray at a large laurel plant near the doorway leading into the apartment.

The terrace was filled with terra-cotta planters holding thick greens, ivy, and flowering plants splayed against the rich warmth of umber walls. A huge riccasperma was in bloom, its thousands of white blossoms threading a jasminelike fragrance into the air from among the glossy, dark leaves. Under the straw matting with its warp of vines, a marble slab, carved with acanthus leaves and inset with crimson, had been set into a wrought-iron frame to make a table; wicker chairs were set around it, ready for dining. Opposite, where Missy was lounging, the sun was still touching the riot of geraniums, petunias, roses, and bougainvillea that swarmed over the walls and latticing.

The latticing created a shady and private area on the part of the terrace adjacent to the ministry building next door. Missy had pulled the chaise to the open part so that she could catch the last sun. She was in the line of vision of two soldiers who were at a ministry window on the same level as the Morosini apartment, and were leaning over the ledge smoking and looking into the gardens of Palazzo Barberini below.

They spotted Missy and smiled. Missy smiled back and waved. Seeing her, Tina said, “Missy, don’t encourage them or I’ll never be able to take a sunbath out here.”

“Why not, Tina? They won’t hurt you. They’re just looking at the view.”

“Well, I don’t want to be part of their view.”

“What could be better than just to be part of such a beautiful sight?”