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"The Danieli has private cabins available to its customers." said the Magician.  

"And a motorboat to get there: I have it set for tomorrow." said the secretary. "They also organized breakfast to take to the beach."

"If you're not here at eleven." threatened the Magician "I'll send the motorboat to take you from your home." and closed the door behind him.

At eleven I was at the Danieli hotel. With dark glasses and a handkerchief on my head, hoping to be able to hide my identity from my mother's friends. I was very relieved when I discovered that the Excelsior's cabin was on the opposite side from the one frequented by people I know.

If the Magician was not imposing in a double-breasted shirt and tie, he was even less so in a bathing suit. On the other hand, he was in a good mood. And so the secretary who did his utmost with a thousand kindnesses and who, commissioned by the Magician to photograph me, followed me shooting in continuation and my mood must have been somewhat different from theirs because in all the photos my face came out serious, if not downright sulking bad.

Returning to Venice, the sweet colors of the Lagoon mitigated the harshness that was inside me and, gripped by remorse for having been grumpy with them who were so kind and helpful, I said that the Lagoon was like a painting, that it was pleasant to ride a motorboat, that the breakfast had been really good and the day very well organized and the Magician said that he had decided to dedicate the whole following afternoon only to me, so as to be able to consolidate the current that was establishing between us and immediately the secretary said "Yes, yes." and it seemed like a dog that wagged its tail happily and I didn't have the courage to say that I had other things to do there tomorrow.

The next day, find them waiting for me in the living room, where...