Explore "Alone" by Norman Douglas on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The railway station at Rome has put on a new face. Blown to the winds is that old dignity and sense of leisure. Bustle everywhere; soldiers in line, officers strutting about; feverish scurryings for tickets. A young baggage employe, who allowed me to effect a change of raiment in the inner recesses of his department, alone seemed to keep up the traditions of former days. He was unruffled and polite; he told me, incidentally, that he came from -- . That was odd, I said; I had often met persons born at -- -- , and never yet encountered one who was not civil beyond the common measure. His native place must be worthy of a visit.
"It is," he replied. "There are also certain fountains."