“Oh I love to tease you, baby. With your priest and your English girl, and really you are just like me underneath.” “No, I’m not.” “Yes, we are. You are really an Italian. All fire and smoke and nothing inside. You only pretend to be American. We are brothers and we love each other.” “Be good while I’m gone,” I said. “I will send Miss Barkley. You are better with her without me. You are purer and sweeter.” “Oh, go to hell.” “I will send her. Your lovely cool goddess. English goddess. My God what would a man do with a woman like that except worship her? What else is an Englishwoman good for?”
