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"Si the Signore did say that the family of Smees came from that island as the vice-governatore calls it, though I acknowledge I never heard of such an island. There are Sicilia, Sardegna, Elba, Caprea, Ischia, Irlanda, Inghilterra, Scozia, Malta, Capraya, Pianosa, Gorgona, and America, with several more in the east; but I never heard of such an island as Guernsey.
It's very interesting, and and if you'll forgive me very touching." "Thank you." "If you decide to stay in San Remo, I will Do you suppose I could get a room in this hotel? I don't like mine." "Why, I haven't any doubt you can. Shall we ask?" It was from the Hotel Sardegna that Lanfear satisfied his conscience by pushing his search for climate on behalf of his friend's neurasthenic wife.
Lanfear had been going to the Sardegna himself, but while he bowed he now decided upon another hotel.
You tell him he'd better come to the Sardegna, here." Lanfear and Miss Gerald sat a moment in the silence which is apt to follow with young people when they are unexpectedly left to themselves.
With the more definite purpose of making sure of the Grand Hotel Sardegna, he scanned the different villa slopes that showed their level lines of white and yellow and dull pink through the gray tropical greenery on the different levels of the hills.
He thought he had let a foolish scruple keep him from the Grand Hotel Sardegna, and he walked down towards it along the palm-flanked promenade, in the gay morning light, with the tideless sea on the other hand lapping the rough beach beyond the lines of the railroad which borders it.
His care of her hardly differed from that of her father, except that it involved a closer and more premeditated study. They did not try to keep her from the sort of association which, in a large hotel of the type of the Sardegna, entails no sort of obligation to intimacy.
Now and then a more transitory guest at the Grand Hotel Sardegna perhaps fancied it the iridescent orb which takes the color of the morning sky, and is destined, in the course of nature, to the danger of collapse in which planetary space abounds.
The girl said, "Oh yes, indeed," rather indifferently, and then as they passed him, while he stood lifting his hat, she turned radiantly on him. "Thank you, ever so much!" she said, with the gentle voice which he had already thought charming. The father called back: "I hope we shall meet again. We are going to the Sardegna."
I allude to the libellous epitaph which the Capuchins at Damascus had inscribed on the stone erected over an opening in which some bones of animals had been put. The inscription, which had been copied by two monks, was in the Italian and Arabic language, as follows: "Qui riposano le ossa del P^re Tomaso da Sardegna Miss^o Cappuccino assassinato dagli Ebrei il giorno 5 de Febraro l'anno 1840."
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