"
I was shown to my room, which was rough, as all rooms in Asisi are, but
large and high. As Sor Filomena said, it had _un' aria signorile_ in
spite of the coarse brick floor and the ugly doors and lumpy walls.
Some large dauby old paintings gave a color to the dimness, there were
a fine old oak secretary black with age, a real bishop's carved stool
with a red cushion laid on it, and a long window opening on to a view
of the wide plain with its circling mountains and its many cities and
_paesetti_--Perugia shining white from the neighboring hill; Spello and
Spoleto standing out in bold profile in the opposite direction;
Montefalco lying like a gray pile of rocks on a southern hilltop; the
village and church of Santa Maria degli Angeli nestled like a flock of
cloves in the plain; and half a dozen others.
I ordered writing-table and chair to be set before the window, and
enthroned upon the bishop's tabouret an unabridged Worcester--this
being probably his first visit to Asisi--and I was immediately at home.
The servant, Maria, whose maternal grandmother was a countess, was
making some last arrangements in the room.
"Come and see what a beautiful new moon there is," I said to her.
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