"No. Go-away and marry. 'The most certain softeners of a man's moral skin, and sweeteners of his blood, are domestic intercourse and a happy marriage and brotherly intercourse with the poor.' Always remember that. By the bye, what are you going to live on?"
"If I am always a Gentleman of Hadrian, I am having a plenty of money."
"Ah, but you always will not be a Gentleman of Hadrian, because Hadrian will not be always; and, when He is not, His successor will say 'Via! Via!' to you."
"And then I shall do some things?"
"Ah, but what things?"
"Who knows? But I shall do things."
Hadrian went to the safe in the bedroom: then to the writing-table, and wrote. He came back with some papers in His hand.
"Attend! Take this note to Plowden by the Post-office. He will give you a thousand sterling. That is a marriage-gift to you, so that you may get an apartment in the City and marry that little daughter of the dentist. Don't be silly. Listen. What do you know about photography?"
"About photography? But I know to use that kodak, the gift della Sua osservantissima e venerabilissima Santità."
"And you do it very well. You are one of the few men now alive who perceive the right moment for pressing the button. Understand?"