One Summer Day in Rome Quotes

“Father Bernadino had reluctantly closed the Crypt of Leg Bones and Thigh Bones because damp was leaching through its walls and corrupting the bones. In order for the repairs to be carried out, the leg bones and thigh bones had been carefully removed from the walls of the crypt and painstakingly reassembled on portable wooden frames. A kind parishioner had offered Father Bernardino the use of a storage facility near the Campo de’ Fiori. The room was now empty but had been used for years by a stall-owner at the markets. It was cool and dry, ideal for storing vegetables and keeping them fresh. Also ideal for storing bones.”
― Mark Lamprell, One Summer Day in Rome

“Stephanie slammed on the brakes and turned around. Alec turned to see what had startled her. Sitting on the backseat was Meg’s bag. Alec grabbed the bag and looked through it. “Cash is gone, but everything else is here. My wallet,” he said, producing his empty wallet. The tile was there, too, still wrapped in tissue paper. He looked up at Stephanie and smiled. She smiled back. He reached out and held her arm, accidently brushing her breast. “Thank you. You’re obviously a very big cheese around here. Thank you.”
― Mark Lamprell, One Summer Day in Rome

“As Dr. Stephanie drove her powder-blue Fiat into the wire enclosure of La Barbuta, they passed a police car driving the other way. Alec shrank into his seat until he realized that these particular officers had never met him, were unlikely to recognize him, or realize that he was defying the wishes of Assistente Capo Domenico Cilento by pursuing his own line of inquiry about the stolen bag and his missing wife.”
― Mark Lamprell, One Summer Day in Rome

“Florentina knew this was not food poisoning—not from her kitchen anyway, praise Jesus—because it was all happening too fast. Alice, on the other hand, knew exactly whose fault this was. She felt sick. Not as sick as the boys, or a least a different kind of sick. Listening to the sounds of flushing toilets, opening and closing doors, and moans of misery, she waited for retribution to strike.”
― Mark Lamprell, One Summer Day in Rome

“Slick Rick pushed Alice out of the way and drank from the fountain. Then Blue Backpack pushed Rick out of the way and drank, then Pink Polo pushed Blue Backpack out of the way. Alice tried to push her way back in, but Pink Polo flicked water at her, and Blue Backpack elbowed her out of the way. At this point, Pea Green appeared at the top of the stairs. “Come on up!” he called down to them.”
― Mark Lamprell, One Summer Day in Rome

“Already on their brief journey through the city she had noted a number of small fountains like this, running freely. If they were not for drinking, what would be their purpose other than to waste water? She turned and resumed drinking. “No, really,” said Rick with some force, “I wouldn’t.” Pushing his round John Lennon glasses up his nose, Blue Backpack decided it might be more constructive to outline the specific physical consequences of Alice’s promiscuous gulping. “You’ll get really bad stomach cramps, and then your feces will liquefy and erupt in … ergh!”
― Mark Lamprell, One Summer Day in Rome

“Alice lowered her hand and filled her palm; the water was cooler than she’d expected. She splashed her face, shuddering involuntarily, then, without thinking, squatted, formed a cup with her joined hands, and began to gulp. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” said Blue Backpack. Alice paused and turned to make sure he was talking to her. He was. Standing next to him, Rick nodded authoritatively. “You could get dysentery.”
― Mark Lamprell, One Summer Day in Rome

“Fifteen paces into the little square, a large stone staircase, edged with travertine and pitted with age, hugged the exterior of the right-hand villa, climbing toward a set of four bottle-green timber doors, each inset at head-height with an iron lace panel. At street level, the stairs extended halfway across the street, but by the time they made their way to the green doors, shifting slightly and changing angles, they retracted to a few paces width.”
― Mark Lamprell, One Summer Day in Rome