Inside the building, - the Casa Madre dei Mutilati di Guerra - the team and the cacti were deep in discussion. The Wabbit and Wabsworth were having a principled disagreement about habitats - but looked happy enough. Lapinette was delighted. The cacti clicked their assent. The plants had assembled themself in the atrium in a tasteful manner. Fruit hung from the ceiling. Butterflies emerged, fluttering around in a zig-zag path. Delightful fragrances filled the air. "I'm not certain they should be here, but it does look and smell nice," commented Wabsworth. "I'm very happy there was no conflict," said Lapinette. "All's well that ends well," nodded the Wabbit. "Whate'er the course, the end is the renown," murmured Lapinette. "Everyone's happy except the landlords," commented Wabsworth. The Wabbit shrugged. "They'll love it and leave it, I'm certain. They usually do." Lapinette wasn't so certain of that. "I'll ask Mr Singh to pop in to give horticultural assistance. Watering. Feeding. Weeding." They turned to go, but the Wabbit was uncertain. "How do we get out? That door or that door?" Lapinette was already pirouetting through an exit. "A chance to explore an interesting building!" They prowled the upper floors and looked at statues. "I never knew this was here," said the Wabbit. "Rome is always surprising," commented Wabsworth. "Maybe there's a tea room," said the Wabbit. "Maybe there's a bar," smiled Wabsworth.
