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Updated: June 19, 2025
It was Sunday night and the place was Steve Sanguinetti's, with roisterers in full swing and every table filled and dozens of patrons waiting along the walls ready to take each seat as it was emptied. Here were young men and women just returned from their various picnics across the Bay to their one great event of the week a Sunday dinner at Sanguinetti's.
There came also the little people of the race track, as jockies out of a job, touts, bookmakers' apprentices tawdry people mainly, but ever good-humored and ready to loosen restraint of custom after the second quart of Steve Sanguinetti's red wine. So this place came to have an air of loose, easy, half-drunken camaraderie, which seldom fell into roughness.
This, indeed, seemed to be Sanguinetti's definite position; he made a show of disliking the wavering sway of Leo XIII, and of retaining a fervent admiration for Pius IX, the great, heroic pope of the days of resistance, whose goodness of heart had proved no impediment to unshakable firmness.
Then he sought to inspirit Pierre by speaking to him of Cardinal Sanguinetti's amiable manner and fair words, but although the young priest was returning home well pleased with his journey, in the idea that with a little help he might yet triumph, he scarcely answered the Count, so wrapt he was in his reverie. And Santobono, on his side, neither spoke nor moved.
By desperate efforts we were saved from capsizing and the little boat broke loose from the steamer bearing her down, so we did not catch up with the party until a day later. If Neptune Day was a huge success, then "Sanguinetti's Night" was a triumph. Red ties, stockings and skirts were in demand. Mrs.
This, indeed, seemed to be Sanguinetti's definite position; he made a show of disliking the wavering sway of Leo XIII, and of retaining a fervent admiration for Pius IX, the great, heroic pope of the days of resistance, whose goodness of heart had proved no impediment to unshakable firmness.
"He took the left-hand road, you see. It was manifest destiny; and you and I and Eleanor cannot move one whit the career of that young man." When Kate called him up over the telephone, inviting him, second-hand, to join a Masters party at Sanguinetti's restaurant, Bertram interrupted his banter to ask if Eleanor were going. "I'm sure I don't know what her plans are," said Kate.
Whilst speaking Boccanera's face had clouded over, and it was with increased sternness of manner that he again waited. He was aware that the priest had become Sanguinetti's "client" since the latter had been in the habit of spending weeks together at his suburban see of Frascati.
This, indeed, seemed to be Sanguinetti's definite position; he made a show of disliking the wavering sway of Leo XIII, and of retaining a fervent admiration for Pius IX, the great, heroic pope of the days of resistance, whose goodness of heart had proved no impediment to unshakable firmness.
Sanguinetti," he swore, and his manner was half-angry, half-bantering; "do you call this friendship?" "My dear Francois" returned the foreigner, "you arrive most inopportunely." "And is that all the greeting you have for me?" Looking more closely, Garnache thought that he recognized in him one of Sanguinetti's companions of yesternight. "But do you not see that I am engaged?"
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