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Updated: May 14, 2025
"You will excuse me, Signor Quinto," said Gigia, with a demure air of speaking modestly on a subject which she perfectly well understood "You will excuse me, if I tell you that I know a great deal better than that. There's men, Signor Quinto, who are in love because they like it; and there's others who are in love whether they like it or no, because they can't help themselves!"
And then the Diva waited patiently. She had, as she had said to Gigia, no certain knowledge that he would come, nor even any very clear reason to believe that he would do so that he would come, that is to say, earlier than one o'clock, at which hour it had been arranged that he should meet Stadione there. Nevertheless, Bianca had a strong persuasion that he would come earlier.
But before going he called Gigia the maid, and said, as he stood with the door in his hand: "Gigia, cara mia, the Marchese Lamberto is coming here presently; just make use of your sharp ears to hear what passes between him and Bianca; and take heed to it, you understand, so as to be able to give an account of it afterwards if it should be needed.
Just open the door quietly, and let him walk into the room without disturbing me you understand?" "A chi lo dite, Signora mia! Lasciate fare a me! Is it the first time?" said Gigia. "If only one could hope that it would be the last," returned her mistress with a half laugh, half sigh.
My father wished to have him enter; but he refused, and suddenly inquired, assuming a serious expression: "How is my family? How is Gigia?" "She was well a few days ago," replied my mother. Giorgio uttered a deep sigh. "Oh, God be praised! I had not the courage to present myself at the Deaf-mute Institution until I had heard about her. I will leave my bundle here, and run to get her.
Give me a pair of bronze kid slippers. After all, there is nothing that shows a foot so well: and look here, Gigia, draw this stocking a little better; I'd almost as soon have a wrinkle in my face as in the silk on my instep. That's better! The narrow black velvet with the jet cross for my neck, nothing else. Now, you understand?
The gardener did not understand, and stood with his mouth wide open. He did not yet believe it. "Tell me, Gigia," he asked his daughter, whispering in her ear, "are you glad that your father has come back?" and he raised his face again, and stood awaiting her reply. The girl looked at him thoughtfully, and said nothing. Her father was perturbed. The teacher laughed.
But first I shall take a ramble about Turin, with my deaf-mute on my arm, so that all may see her, and take her to see some of my friends! Ah, what a beautiful day! This is consolation indeed! Here's your father's arm, my Gigia." The girl, who had returned with a little mantle and cap on, took his arm. "And thanks to all!" said the father, as he reached the threshold.
Isn't the Signor Ludovico the old one's own nephew?" expostulated Gigia shrilly. "The old one, as you call him, is not a bit the more likely to like it for that. It is just the very last thing she should have done. I do wonder she should not have more sense," grumbled Quinto. "Misericordia! why what a piece of work about nothing!
"I am going away," the girl answered hurriedly. "Will your husband come in to fetch my luggage soon? At eight o'clock?" Gigia laid a skinny hand on Olive's arm, and her sharp old eyes blinked anxiously as she said, "Where are you going, nina mia?" "I don't know." "Not to the Prince?" "Good heavens! No!" "Ah, the padrona is hard and you are pretty. I thought it might be that, perhaps.
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