Free The Miracle by Irving Wallace Page A

the music as Aunt Elsa ordered grapefruit juice for Natale and a Coca-Cola with a slice of lemon for herself.
    They had been sipping their drinks in silence, Natale content to be in Venice, refusing to permit herself a moment's unhappiness at being unable to see it again, thinking it was just good to be alive (really only half-alive, but she put down the thought), when the metallic clanging from a nearby bell made her sit up. That would be the mechanical Moors above their heads, at the summit of the Clock Tower, hitting the big bell.
    "What time is it?" asked Natale.
    "Exactly one o'clock. Too late to shop on the Mercerie. Most of the stores will be closed until three. Although a few may be open."
    "No," said Natale. "I want to go to Harry's Bar. I'm hungry, and it's cooler there."
    While she waited for her aunt to pay the check, she heard heavy

    footsteps approach her and she sensed a presence just above her. Instinctively, she looked up, as she heard a rich male baritone voice say, "Forgive me, but I thought I recognized you. You're Miss Rinaldi from Rome, aren't you?"
    Bewildered, Natale nodded.
    "I'm Signore Vianello," the voice was saying. "Again, forgive me, but I couldn't resist being sure and saying hello."
    "Vianello," Natale repeated blankly.
    "I'm a play producer from Rome, on vacation. I first saw you—I was sure you were the same actress—at a rehearsal of a Pirandello play at the Teatro Goldini several years ago. A friend had brought me along. I don't remember whom. But I could not forget you." He hesitated. "I don't want to interrupt you two—"
    Quickly, Natale introduced her Aunt Elsa, then added, "Thank you."
    "I expected to see you at the opening night, but you weren't in the cast," the producer went on. "I learned only that you had retired." He chuckled. "Retired? For one so young? Anyway, I was reminded, spotting you here in the Piazza." Natale meant to stop him, but this Vianello was going on. "I have a new play of my own I am planning to produce. I'll be casting in a month. There is a perfect role for you if you're interested."
    Natale couldn't let this continue anymore. "Signore Vianello," she blurted. "Can't you tell? I'm blind."
    "You're—?" She heard the quick suck of his breath, and knew that he was taken aback and utterly embarrassed.
    "I'm sorry," she said.
    "Oh, I had no idea," he said. He stammered the rest. "You look— you look—well, better than ever. Uh, many of these things are temporary. I'm sure you will regain your—your full vision. If you do, I would certainly want you to call on me. Uh, let me leave my card. Here."
    Natale held up her hand for the card, but apparently the producer had given his card to Aunt Elsa. "Thank you, Signore Vianello," said Aunt Elsa. "Perhaps things will change. If they do, I'll remind Miss Rinaldi."
    "Do that, do that," said Signore Vianello. "I hope to meet you both again. Have a good vacation."
    Silence followed. Apparently, Signore Vianello had fled.
    Natale felt her aunt's hand on her forearm. "Let's go to Harry's Bar."
    Still unnerved, Natale said, "I'm not sure I'm hungry."

    "They'd have something to drink there," said Aunt Elsa, forcing Natale to her feet. "Let's go."
    Natale allowed Aunt Elsa to guide her into the Piazza. She could hear the goddam pigeons.
    She felt Aunt Elsa release her arm. "Wait. There's a man with Il Gazzettino. Let me buy a paper."
    When her aunt was at her side again with the Venetian newspaper, and starting to lead her away, Natale said, "Where are we exactly?"
    "In front of the Basihca, on the way to the Piazzetta, and there we'll turn right for Harry's Bar."
    "The Basilica," Natale repeated dully. "Is it open?"
    "Of course."
    "I want to go inside."
    "You're sure?"
    "For—for a minute," said Natale. "I want to pray."
    Aunt Elsa, who had no affection for churches, said in a resigned voice, "All right, if it'll help you forget that idiot."
    "He did nothing wrong, Aunt Elsa. Poor man, he didn't know. Actually, I should