DEATH BEFORE WICKET - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

Death Before Wicket
‘Hamper? Nonsense. I’m lunching in the members, as I always
do. Join me, Miss Fisher?’ asked Professor Bretherton.
‘I think I’ll stay here,’ said Phryne, and was deserted by the
gentlemen in favour of roast beef and potatoes.
‘“The sincerest love is the love of food,”’ quoted Bisset,
loading Phryne’s plate with chicken salad. He poured a glass of
champagne for her and leaned back, sipping.
The crowd had largely dispersed in search of beer (and possibly
hot pies which the boys had been crying incessantly) and
Phryne swung her feet up onto the hard wooden bench. The
sun was bright but under the high galvanised pavilion it was
agreeably cool.
‘Have you travelled much, Miss Fisher?’ asked Bisset. ‘I was
in Italy last year.’
‘And how is Signor Mussolini faring?’ asked Phryne idly.
‘Much better than could be hoped. But I was there to practise
my Italian and to see some paintings. Ah, Miss Fisher, Florence
and the Uffizi, Venice and the Accademia!’
‘Indeed,’ agreed Phryne, forking up a mouthful of salad.
‘I’ve seen paintings in some of the Scuola which no one else
has seen—especially Raphaels. The houses are locked up, the
owners are elsewhere. The buildings are sound enough but no
one cares about the pictures. It’s not right. Art should be free.
A beautiful thing can only justify its existence if it is free to
all-comers.’
‘Possibly.’ Phryne was feeling too lazy to quarrel. ‘But the
world is full of lovely things and one lifetime wouldn’t be enough
to see them all. Just Venice, for instance, it would take twenty
years to properly appreciate all of it. But you know how tired
travellers get. I always know that if I look into a room and say
wearily, “Ah, five Botticellis”, I need a sit down and a nice cup of
coffee and probably an ice. And maybe a ride in a gondola with
a pretty gondoliere and supper after the opera at night.’
‘Ah, it is only the very decorative that dare to be so hedonistic,’
sighed the young man and Phryne looked at him for the
first time.