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"And a very great fool she is for her pains," cried the old man, with an oath; "it is just the last thing she ought to have done the very last. I really thought she had more sense!" "I am sure, Signor Quinto, she has not had one bit of pleasure all this Carnival. A nun couldn't have lived a quieter life, nor more shut up than she has.
It did not occur to anybody to connect any change that was observable either in the Marchese's manner or in his appearance, with the frequency of his visits to the quartiere inhabited by the prima donna and Signor Quinto Lalli, in the Strada di Porta Sisi.
"Very well then; let his Venetian have him in peace," said Quinto, shrugging his shoulders. "Why, then, does that girl hate me as she does? What harm have I ever done her?" returned Bianca. "Why should you think she does hate you?" expostulated Quinto. "I have told you that I saw it.
They were all happy and triumphant, on that lovely, radiant May day, while he tossed on a bed of pain, and it was proven too clearly to him that very afternoon by his two seconds, the only visitors whom he had not denied admission, and who came to see him about five o'clock. They came from the races of Tor di Quinto, which had taken place that day.
Have at the old man then, as you call him; though, as I have told you, Quinto, he is not an old man not over forty-five I should say; at all events the right side of fifty, I'd wager anything! But I tell you fairly, that a less promising subject I never saw.
To witness this victory the best blood of Europe had flocked, and now, forty-three years later, when the audacious Moslem had raised his head once more, the descendant of the warriors who had followed "Los Reyes Católicos" rallied to that standard which Carlos Quinto, their grandson, had set up on the shores of Catalonia.
Then he was employed in the melancholy task of carrying on Alva's detestable work in Flanders. See The Story of the Moors in Spain, p. 278. See the complete list in Girolamo Catena, Vita del gloriosissimo Papa Pio Quinto, 1587. Read the admirable and graphic description of the battle in Jurien de la Gravière, La Guerre de Chypre et la Bataille de Lepante, ii., 149-205.
Quinto Lalli and Bianca were sitting together in the parlour of their apartments in the Strada di Porta Sisi, that same Monday morning just after the little pink note had been despatched to the Marchese. Bianca was having her breakfast a small quantity of black coffee in a drinking-glass, brought, together with a roll of dry bread, from the cafe.
The Marchese reached the Palazzo Castelmare unobserved by any one, save old Quinto Lalli, who had been for some time past watching the door of his adopted daughter from a neighbouring corner, in order to ascertain when he might go home to his bed without infringing the order that had been given him.
And the interference is all the worse. and the more fatal, because the poor old man would not only make a fool of himself, but beggars of his protectors." "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed old Quinto Lalli with a quiet, almost noiseless laugh; "it is very well and shrewdly said, bambina mia.
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