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Marcello asked in surprise, for strange as it may seem to any but Italians, it was quite natural that he should never have known Ercole's family name. "Spalletta? That is your own name, Regina! What a strange coincidence!" "Yes," Ercole said. "I know that the young lady's name is Spalletta. It is for this reason that I desire the favour of a few words with her alone."
"Spalletta Regina," answered the girl promptly, putting her family name first, according to Italian custom. "I am of Rocca di Papa." "Thank you. I shall remember that. And you say that you know this poor young man. Now, what is his name, if you please? He does not seem able to remember anything about himself." "I have always called him Marcello," answered Regina. "Indeed? You call him Marcello?
Smart young dandies who had never exchanged a word with her spoke of her familiarly as "Regina "; smarter and older men, who knew her a little, talked of her as "the Spalletta," not without a certain respect; their mothers branded her as "that creature," and their wives, who envied her, called her "Consalvi's Regina."
"It will be a little difficult, sir. I would rather speak to the lady alone." Regina had stood listening in silence, and looking intently at Ercole's face. "Let me speak to him," she said to Marcello. "What is your full name?" she asked, turning to Ercole again. "Spalletta Ercole, to serve you," was the prompt answer. "Spalletta?"
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