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Such villas are more numerous towards the point of the Capo di Posilipo than nearer Naples, as the high road, after the Mergellina, mounts the hill and diverges farther and farther from the sea. The Antico Giuseppone is a small waterside ristorante at the point of the Capo di Posilipo, a little below the Villa Rosebery.
Merrihew was first to break the silence. "Jack, I am an ass!" penitently. "I admit it," said Hillard, smiling. "Let's hunt up the restaurant; I am hungry and thirsty." And by the time they had found the Ristorante Tornaghi miserable and uninviting they were laughing. "Only, I wish I knew where they were going," was Hillard's regret. "They?" said Merrihew. "Yes.
"No, signore," said Gaspare. "When we are very old, when we cannot dance any more non è vero, Amedeo? then we will go to Paradiso." "Yes," agreed the tall boy, quite seriously, "then we will go to Paradiso." "And I, too," said Maurice; "and Maddalena, but not till then." What a long time away that would be! "Here is the ristorante!"
As he came down the road between the big buildings near the waterside he saw in the distance a small group of boys and men lounging by the three or four boats that lie at the quay, and feared to find, perhaps, a bustle and noise of people round the corner at the ristorante.
They reached Albano soon after eleven o'clock, and Jean left his man in the car while he went in to the Ristorante of the Albergo della Posta. He ordered a cup of coffee, and sat down at one of the little marble tables near the door to drink it. There was no one else in the place at the moment. "Can you tell me the way to the Villino Bella Vista?" The waiter looked at him curiously.
By the table which was destined to the Marchesino and Artois three ambulant musicians were hovering, holding in their broad and dirty hands two shabby mandolins and a guitar. In the distance a cook with a white cap on his head and bare arms was visible, as he moved to and fro in the lighted kitchen of the old ristorante, preparing a "zuppa di pesce" for the gentlemen from Naples.
She hurried on, turned to the right, and came out on the highway before the little lonely ristorante that is set here to command the view of vineyards and of sea. The tram was already gliding away at some distance down the road.
One evening at the beginning of May, when he had managed to decide to pack up and go, he received a card from Susanna, telling him of her arrival and inviting him to have tea at the Ristorante del Castello dei Cesari. Caesar immediately left the hotel and took a cab, which carried him to the top of the Aventine Hill.
He got out at the entrance to the garden of the Ristorante, went across it, and out on a large terrace. There were a number of Americans having tea, and in one group of them was Susanna. "How late you come!" she said. "I have just received your card. And what did you do in Corfu? How did things go down there?" "Very well indeed. It is all wonderful. And I have been in Epirus and Albania, too."
And he could promise her an excellent risotto, sardines with pomidoro, and a bifteck such as certainly she could not get in the restaurants of Naples. "Very well," Hermione answered, quickly, "I will dine here, but not directly in half an hour or three-quarters." What Artois was doing at the Ristorante della Stella she was doing at the Trattoria del Giardinetto.
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