Another unaccountable change
in himself appeared with the appearance of the meal. He was
absolutely without appetite. An excellent omelette, and cutlets
cooked to perfection, he sent away untasted--he, whose appetite
never failed him, whose digestion was still equal to any demands
on it!
The day was bright and fine. He sent for a gondola, and was rowed
to the Lido.
Out on the airy Lagoon, he felt like a new man. He had not left
the hotel ten minutes before he was fast asleep in the gondola.
Waking, on reaching the landing-place, he crossed the Lido,
and enjoyed a morning's swim in the Adriatic. There was only a poor
restaurant on the island, in those days; but his appetite was now ready
for anything; he ate whatever was offered to him, like a famished man.
He could hardly believe, when he reflected on it, that he had sent
away untasted his excellent breakfast at the hotel.
Returning to Venice, he spent the rest of the day in the picture-galleries
and the churches. Towards six o'clock his gondola took him back,
with another fine appetite, to meet some travelling acquaintances
with whom he had engaged to dine at the table d'hote.
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