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O Mio Babbino Caro, Gianni Schicci, (Puccini)
Violet (thoughts)
September 18, afternoon
“You’ll be their leader.” Elan said evenly, with a kindly look. It is still an order. He trusts me to change myself quite easily into a nanny of eighteen ruffians (shall I say “collectors ?”) sailing around Madeira on the Saint-Amour.
It’s my idea. Having ideas has kept me alive during twenty-six years. One day, it will kill me. For the time being it makes me feel alive. We won’t go to Madeira. This morning, Portuguese authorities were eager to prove that they could still control something. They urged the Captain to cancel the port of call and he did it with evident relief. Now he has such a happy face that everybody on board thinks he’s in love. Elan’s position is a lot less comfortable. Our pl
