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Updated: June 17, 2025
"She's one of those Southern natures, you know, full of er full of..." "Full of fun," I suggested. "Oh, hang it all, don't make fun of it! Well, anyhow, she's sister, you understand, to the Contessa Carantarata, and that's why Fra Fraliccolo, or...hold on, that's not it, no, no, she's not sister to anybody.
He tries to get Fra Fraliccolo and Carlo Carlotti the Condottiere to steal the document from...let me see; what was he called?...Oh, yes...from the Dog of Venice, so that...or...no, hang it, you put me out, that's all wrong. It's the other way round. Pio wasn't clever at all; he's a regular darned fool. It's the Dog that's crafty.
She's cousin, that's it; or, anyway, she thinks she is cousin to Fra Fraliccolo himself, and that's why Pio tries to stab Fra Fraliccolo." "Oh, yes," I assented, "naturally he would." "Ah," Sinclair said hopefully, getting his paper-cutter ready to cut the next pages, "you begin to get the thread now, don't you?" "Oh, fine!" I said.
It's laid in Italy...time of Pius the something. He comes in say, but he's great! so darned crafty. It's him, you know, that persuades this Franciscan..." "Pause," I said, "what Franciscan?" "Fra Fraliccolo, of course," Sinclair said snappishly. "You see, Pio tries to..." "Whoa!" I said, "who is Pio?" "Oh, hang it all, Pio is Italian, it's short for Pius.
"Stop right there," I said. "What's a Condottiere?" "It's a sort of brigand. He, you understand, was in league with this Fra Fraliccolo..." A suspicion flashed across my mind. "Look here," I said firmly, "if the scene of this story is laid in the Highlands, I refuse to listen to it. Call it off." "No, no," Sinclair answered quickly, "that's all right.
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