Outside the room, down on the street was the hustling traffic; and those pneumatic drills started to sound. The grand subway construction has been progressing for months, I wonder when it would come to an end. The leaves of those sycamores that leaned past the window ticked against the glass. The sudden pour of rain was like a halt to this city; and with the spacious ease and generosity, my heart fell asleep. We might have been in anywhere, somewhere else in Venice, Italy.