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to paint. The unhealthy-looking wooden grapes, in full relief, the consumptive peaches with red hectic cheeks which he showed us will remain undigested in my memory for ever. 
May 1st. In the afternoon we joined out Sfollati in the fields. We found them with the peasants seated on the grass near the opening of the underground canal. A beautiful spot, seemingly in the very heart of the country, surrounded by a wheat field and olive groves. How could a bomb find its way there? A false sense pf security it seemed to be for me, for the 'Viale' though hidden, was not ten metres away and are not all the principal roads to be destroyed? Besides the refuge had but one opening, thereby leaving no escape from air pressure should a bomb fall anywhere near. The Signora Sfollata was at work on some embroidery for a night-gown, 'a design by Leonardo da Vinci', said she. The Professor, seated on a shawl, held in his hand a small Didon edition of Horace printed on light green paper. The Professor, seated on a shawl, held in his hand a small Didon edition of Horace printed on light green paper. To this refure the Professor, his two maids and occasionally the Signora S. ran five and even six times a day, though the walk through the fields is no easy matter and the alarm may coincide with the falling of bombs. But the fields are far away from houses, with the possibility of these falling on one. 
With an electric lamp I investigated this curious subterranean water-way built in the time of the Medici. Along