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Till he met the ladies of the island he had never said a hundred words to any English person. The Neapolitan aristocracy is a very conservative body, and by no means disposed to cosmopolitanism. To the Panacci Villa at Capodimonte came only Italians, except Emilio.
Occasionally it was fitful, and when summoned by irony remained at a distance. "It is true, Emilio, you have never seen me angry," he continued, reverting to the remark of Artois; "you ought to. Till you have seen a Panacci angry you do not really know him. With you, of course, I could never be angry never, never. You are my friend, my comrade. To you I tell everything."
When they returned they found a card lying upon the table in the little hall "Marchese Isidoro Panacci di Torno" and Gaspare told them that it had been left by a Signore, who had called on the day of their departure, and had seemed very disappointed to hear that they were gone. "I do not know this Signore," Gaspare added, rather grimly.
I at least am young. My blood speaks to me. I am natural, I am passionate. I know what I am, what I want; I know it; I say it; I am sincere. I I am ready to go naked into the sun before the whole world, and say, 'There! There! This is Isidoro Panacci; and he is this and this and this! Like it or hate it that does not matter! It is not his fault. He is like that. He is made like that.
Had he not always felt angry with Panacci for intruding into the island life? He followed the record of his intercourse with Vere until he reached the Festa of that night, until he reached the moment in which he was pacing the tiny balcony while the night wore on towards dawn. That was the record of himself with Vere. He began to think of Hermione.
Vere is such a baby, and your friend is a regular boy, in spite of his self-assurance." "Women often fancy men to be young in ways in which they are not young," said Artois. "Panacci is very much of a man, I can assure you." "Panacci! I never heard you call him that before." Her eager brown eyes went to his face curiously for a moment.
He would try to be patient until the night of the dinner on the island. He would be birbante, would play the fox, as Emilio surely had done. The Panacci temper should find out that one member of the family could control it, when such control served his purpose. He was on fire with a lust for action as he made his resolutions.
You remember my mentioning my friend, the Marchesino Panacci? Well, he is with me. We were going to fish. The fishermen suggested our sleeping in the Saint's Pool for an hour or two first. I found Doro gone and came to look for him." There was still a faint embarrassment in his manner. "I believe you have seen him," he added.
"No, Doro, you and I must never quarrel. By the way, though, I want to see you angry. Every one talks of the Panacci temper, but when I am with you I always see you smiling or laughing. As to the Marchese, he is as lively as a boy. Viviano " "Oh, Viviano is a buffone. Have you ever seen him imitate a monkey from whom another monkey has snatched a nut?" "No." "It is like this "
Three days after Artois' conversation with Hermione in the Grotto of Virgil the Marchesino Isidoro Panacci came smiling into his friend's apartments in the Hotel Royal des Etrangers.
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