The Wabbit had just stepped out of the Antimafia Office, where had picked up a dossier on the sinister Agents of Rabit. He had only paused for a moment when a very strange man sidled up to him. "Nice coat," said the man. The Wabbit thought the man's suit was quite woeful . "Che brutta," he murmured and commented out loud on his hat. "A good hat opens many doors," said the Wabbit, because it was the first thing he thought of saying. "and closes them," said the man. The Wabbit had not the slightest clue what the man meant and said nothing. "Why are you here?" said the man. "I am but a tourist, killing time before my tour of the Coliseum," said the Wabbit carefully. "Perhaps I can help you kill time," said the man. "It would be a favour." The Wabbit ignored an offer that he considered impertinent. "Why are you here?" said the Wabbit. "I am a special adviser and I came here to help the government," said the man. The Wabbit concealed his enormous disbelief. "Then you are surely a kind of civil servant," said the Wabbit and added "I am also a kind of civil servant." "Then your pension will be a good one," said the man. "Yes," said the Wabbit. "When I retire I shall be a Tourist for Life." At this, the strange man gave up. "Tu parli troppo*" said the man and he sidled off from whence he came. The Wabbit knew he had managed to out-talk his annoying companion and celebrated his departure with a retort. "Pazzo," muttered the Wabbit.*You talk too much