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In a minute or two he was overtaken by a little lad, who looked up at him and said in an insinuating voice, "Albergo del Sole, signore?" "Prendi, bambino," was Mallard's reply, as he handed the bag to him. "Avanti!" A divine evening, softly warm, dim-glimmering.
But we drove on; Gaetano cracked his long whip, our four steeds picked up their feet and rattled our vehicle over the Roman cobble-stones; we passed the Porta del Popolo, and were stretching along, under the summer sunshine, upon the white road that led to Florence.
They continued watching Del Mar but, so far at least, he did nothing that would have furnished them any evidence of anything. So the party went on, most merrily until, long after the guests had left, Elaine sat in her dressing-gown up in her room, about to retire. Her maid had left her and she picked up the slip of paper from her dresser, looking at it thoughtfully.
There were just two people who knew different do you get me? One of them is dead, but one of them is still alive." "Which one is dead?" "Percival Coolidge; he knew too much and got gay; he planned to cop the whole boodle. The fact is he started the whole scheme, soon as he learned who Del was, and planned it all out.
Lorenzo was chosen to assist Brunellesco, when the latter was commissioned to make the Cupola of S. Maria del Fiore, but he was afterwards relieved of the task, as it will be told in the Life of Filippo. The same Lorenzo wrote a book in the vulgar tongue, wherein he treated of many diverse matters, but in such wise that little profit can be drawn from it.
"Have you discovered anything?" asked Del Mar, entering. "No, sir," they reported. "Confound it!" swore Del Mar, going up-stairs again. Here also were men searching. "Find anything?" he asked briefly. "No luck," returned one. Del Mar went on up to the top floor and out through the open scuttle to the roof.
Wherefore, departing from that territory, Niccolò betook himself to Florence, where he had worked at other times, and for the Wardens of Works of S. Maria del Fiore he made a statue of marble, four braccia high, which was afterwards placed on the left hand of the principal door of that church.
Our first walk in Florence was to the Royal Gallery we wished to see the "goddess living in stone" without delay. Crossing the neighboring Piazza del Granduca, we passed Michael Angelo's colossal statue of David, and an open gallery containing, besides some antiques, the master-piece of John of Bologna.
We lifted him up and I looked toward Del Mar's house. "Help!" I shouted at the top of my voice. The valet came to the door. Hearing me, the valet ran out down the walk. "All right," he cried. "I'll be there in a minute." With his help I picked up the taxicab chauffeur and we carried him into the house.
She seemed to be collecting her thoughts for a minute or two, and at last she said "I'm very hungry." "Come, then; come with me." He lifted her from her knees, and led her out under the cloisters surrounding the atrium, which were then open, and not yet adorned with the frescoes of Andrea del Sarto. "How is it you are all by yourself, and so hungry, Tessa?"
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