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He descended instead to his study, lighted his reading-lamp, and then, opening a bureau, took from one of the drawers in it the letter which Nanina had written to him. This was not the first time that a sudden sense of his solitude had connected itself inexplicably with the remembrance of the work-girl's letter. He read it through slowly, and when he had done, kept it open in his hand.
"Excuse me, madam," he said, "but I heard you mention the name of Nanina. May I ask whether you mean a pretty little work-girl who lives near the Campo Santo?" "The same," said the lady, looking very much surprised and interested immediately.
I can't get on with the bust at all to my satisfaction, so I have cut short the sitting, and given Nanina a half-holiday." At the first sound of his voice, Maddalena, who was speaking to her father, stopped, and, with another look of scorn at Nanina standing trembling in the doorway, left the room.
Luca Lomi called Fabio to him as she went away, and Father Rocco, turning to the statuette, looked to see how the plaster was hardening on it. Seeing them thus engaged, Nanina attempted to escape from the studio without being noticed; but the priest stopped her just as she was hurrying by him. "My child," said he, in his gentle, quiet way, "are you going home?"
"His wife was buried in the Campo Santo." Of all the persons who had been present, in any capacity, at the Marquis Melani's ball, the earliest riser on the morning after it was Nanina. The agitation produced by the strange events in which she had been concerned destroyed the very idea of sleep.
I'll tell you what you want to know directly. Only answer me another question or two first. Have you heard anything about her health?" "How should I hear? Dressmakers can't inquire at the doors of the nobility." "True. Now one last question. That little simpleton, Nanina?" "I have never seen or heard anything of her. She can't be at Pisa, or she would have called at our place for work." "Ah!
Look up, and tell us what you want You were sixteen last birthday, Nanina, and you behave like a baby of two years old!" "I only came to know if there was any work for me to-day," said the girl, in a very sweet voice, that trembled a little as she tried to face the fashionable French forewoman again. "No work, child, that is easy enough for you to do," said Brigida.
A thread-paper of a girl like that, who has no manner, no talk, no intelligence; who has nothing to recommend her but an awkward, babyish prettiness! Dangerous to me? No, no! If there is danger at all, I have to dread it from the sculptor's daughter. I don't mind confessing that I am anxious to see Maddalena Lomi. But as for Nanina, she will simply be of use to me.
Marta Angrisani had huddled on her clothes and was looking at herself in the glass to see that she was sufficiently presentable to appear at the palace, when she felt two arms flung round her neck; and, before she could say a word, found Nanina sobbing on her bosom. "He is ill he is in danger!" cried the girl. "I must go with you to help him.
A little crowd had already assembled to see the ladders raised and the scaffoldings put up. The steward advancing politely with his stick to drive the dog away, saw the lady start, and heard her exclaim to herself amazedly: "You here, you beast! Can Nanina have come back to Pisa?" This last exclamation gave the steward, as a gallant man, an excuse for speaking to the elegant stranger.
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