The port office shuts at seven and Nicolo has not left it. The lamp is on, the manifest is open, and the gate lights are moving slowly across the wall behind him.
Renzo put his head round the door an hour ago and said something funny and left. Tullio brought the bad coffee at six and did not say a word.
"Come in and shut it,"
Nicolo says, without looking up.
"There is a chair. It is not a good chair."
He signs the page, turns it over, and puts the pen down flat, which is what he does when he has decided to stop working.
"You have been in this house four weeks and you have not asked me for anything."
He looks up for the first time.
"So ask me something now, before the gate closes and I have an excuse."