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Updated: June 28, 2025
"If I tell you, you will fall in love with her," objected Annetta. "They say that men with red hair fall in love easily. Is it true? If it is, I will not tell you any more about the nun. But I think you are in love with the poor old Grape-eater. It is good ham, is it not? By Bacchus, I fed him on chestnuts with my own hands, and he was always stealing the grapes.
"You will drink a little orgeat?" asked the old woman, in a tone of persuasion, and mixing it in the glass. "Water, simply water," said Annetta, who was still suspicious. "Give me water in the other glass." "But I have mixed already in both," answered Serafina. "Eh, you will drink it. You will not make an old woman like me go all the way down the stairs again. But then, it is good.
"'Dearest teacher, good night. The sun has set and the stars are shining . . . stars that are as bright and beautiful as your eyes. I kiss your hands and face, my sweet. May God watch over you and protect you from all harm. ""Your afecksionate pupil, "'Annetta Bell." "This extraordinary letter puzzled me not a little. I knew Annetta couldn't have composed it any more than she could fly.
Bonaldi and his agreeable lady, Signora Annetta, we were recommended by letters from the Venetian resident at Milan, to Abate Toaldo, professor of astronomy; who wished to do all in his power to oblige and entertain us.
"It is silly," said Dalrymple, growing unnaturally red, and looking up sharply at Annetta, before he took his next mouthful. "Look at him, mother!" laughed the girl. "He is red, red he seems to me a boiled shrimp. Eh, this time I have guessed it! And as for Sister Maria Addolorata, she no longer sees with her eyes!
This is a true Christian act. God return it to you. I am alone all day." "But the Englishman comes to see you," said Annetta, indifferently. "The Englishman, yes. He comes. More or less, he has almost cured me. But then, for his conversation, I say nothing!" "Meanwhile he is also curing the abbess. He has a fortunate hand. There death, here death he makes them all alive. Where is death, now?
Annetta did not enjoy his discomfiture and evident embarrassment, for she was far more deeply hurt herself than she realized, and every word she had spoken about Maria Addolorata had hurt her, though she had taken a sort of vague delight in teasing Dalrymple. She relapsed into silence now, alternately wishing that he loved her, and then, that she might kill him.
"It was nothing," said Stefanone, quietly enough, though his eyes were bloodshot and glanced about the room in an unsettled way. At that moment Annetta entered from a door leading to the staircase. Her eyes were fixed on Dalrymple's face as she came forward, carrying a polished brass lamp, with three burning wicks, which she placed upon the table.
Good evening, my beautiful daughter," he added, looking up at Annetta. "The Madonna go with you." "Thank you, and good evening," answered the girl, dropping half a courtsey, with a vicious twinkle in her little eyes. She turned, and was out of the room in a moment.
Your mother needn't worry about your continuing to exist as long as you can tuck away fat, salt pork in that fashion. "Cousin Annetta never forgave him, but she never pretended to be delicate again." "The Jews don't believe in eating pork," said Peter. "I'm glad I'm not a Jew and I guess Cousin Annetta was too," said Dan.
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