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Updated: June 25, 2025
An hour later, Assunta, going to find a spade in the tool-house, for she was transplanting roses, came upon the Signorina's caller of yesterday standing near the tool-house with something in his hand. The peasant woman's face showed neither awe nor fear; only lively curiosity gleamed in the blinking brown eyes. "Buon' giorno," said Apollo, exactly as mortals do.
"Buon giorno, Signor Capitano," cried Maso, saluting with his cap, when sufficiently near to those who occupied the path; "we meet often, and in all weathers; by day and by night; on the land and on the water; in the valley and on the mountain; in the city and on this naked rock, as Providence wills. As many chances try men's characters, we shall come to know each other in time!"
"Buon' giorno, Signorino," she returned but in a whisper. "What's the matter? Is there cause for secrecy?" Peter asked. "I have a cold, Signorino," she whispered, pointing to her chest. "I cannot speak." The Venetian blinds were up by this time; the room was full of sun. He looked at her. Something in her face alarmed him. It seemed drawn and set, it seemed flushed.
The donkey-man reddened visibly and fumbled with his hat. 'My dear, her father warned, 'he understands English. She continued to gaze with the open admiration one would bestow upon a picture or a view or a blue-ribbon horse. The man flashed her a momentary glance from a pair of searching grey eyes, then dropped his gaze humbly to the ground. 'Buon giorno, he said in glib Italian.
Margaret Devereux missed seeing the church and its Titian, but she got a "great moral lesson." She never wasted her pretty pleadings in such a hopeless cause again. I remember, when we mounted the Campanile, the solemn way in which he wished us buon viaggio. When we reached the top, we made out his figure reclining on many chairs in front of "Florian's."
"It is a great thing for me," murmured old Giorgio, still thinking of the house, for now he had grown weary of change. "The signora just said a word to the Englishman." "The old Englishman who has enough money to pay for a railway? He is going off in an hour," remarked Nostromo, carelessly. "Buon viaggio, then.
"Buon Giorno." "Geordie, come and have ickle talk," she said. "Me want 'oo wise man to advise ickle Lucia." "What 'oo want?" asked Georgie, now quite quelled for the moment. "Lots-things. Here's pwetty flower for button-holie. Now tell me about black man. Him no snakes have? Why Mrs Quantock say she thinks he no come to poo' Lucia's party-garden?"
I am sorry!" Already the Marchesino had had that lesson of which Artois had thought in Naples. Artois laughed aloud. "It doesn't matter, Vere. My friend is not too sensitive." "Buona sera, Signorina! Buona sera, Signora! Buon riposo!"
When they suddenly said "Buon 'appetito," withdrew their heads and shoulders, slammed the door, and departed. Then the train set off also and shortly after six arrived in Florence. It was debated what should Aaron do in Florence. The young men had engaged a room at Bertolini's hotel, on the Lungarno. Bertolini's was not expensive but Aaron knew that his friends would not long endure hotel life.
When shall we go to Italy?" "I am saying 'a rivederci' now" she dropped her voice "and buon riposo." The white fragments blew away into the gathering night, separated from one another by the careful wind. Three days later Hermione and Artois left Sicily, and Gaspare, leaning out of the window of the train, looked his last on the Isle of the Sirens.
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