They looked at the oak tree that gave its name to Piazza della Quercia and then went to look at a building on Via del Governo Vecchio that presented a kind of optical illusion of tapering levels.

“Let’s go to bed now,” she said.

“You’re using me,” he said, but seriously.

She looked at him in amazement.

“What good is it to go to bed under the influence of drugs?” he asked her harshly.

“Is it any different from the influence of bread and wine?” And she started to giggle. “Or torta delle due farine, or roast chicken?”

“You see, you’re not serious. No gravitas.”

“You’re uptight, Jason. Always have been.”

“You’re using the drug as an excuse to use me—so you can go back and tell Duke about a high in Rome.”

“Phooey to the Duke—he’s gone as far as I’m concerned. I just feel good.”

“Me too, so let’s keep walking.”

“God,” she exclaimed, “isn’t that obscene!” She pointed to a huge red poster in Piazza Pasquino that read Emulsio Regala.

“Horrid!” he agreed, and took her hand as they went off to Piazza Navona. They sat at the Fountain of the Four Great Rivers and looked up at the undulating baroque that swam above their heads.

“You seem to mistrust me, Jason Jowers.”

“You’re right.”

“In that case, how can we be friends enough to go on this trip together?”

“We’ll have to work at it.”

They got up and walked over to the Pantheon. “How magnificent—isn’t that magnificent?” said Jason, appraising the pediment and reading aloud “M. Agrippa . . . fecit.” He was solemn.

“A paradox, a paradox,” she cried, clapping her hands.

“Where?”

“Look at that store on the corner,” she said, pointing to Via del Seminario. “It’s a fancy men’s shop and the name of the owner, up there in big letters, is Cenci—Rags! A rags-and-tatters clothing store!”

They stopped to ring a friend’s bell on Via del Seminario but only the grandmother was home.

“I’m starved,” said Tina. It was about eleven o’clock and the drug had begun to wear off. They were tired from the long perambulation around the city. They stopped in a little trattoria and had beans and sausage. It wasn’t a good trip after all, Tina thought, and started to cry.

Jason was startled. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m pregnant, for God’s sake!”

At home in bed, she wept tears of sadness at the meaninglessness of the night, at the friends who hadn’t been home, at the squalor of the place where they had eaten badly, and at Jason’s disapproval. It’s all too hard, she thought.

37. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-seven