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And after dinner we'll fish for sarde. Isn't it warm? One could sleep out on such a night." They had two men with them.

"I thought the divers for frutti di mare did not do that." "Signorina, I have been taken into the boat of Mandano Giuseppe." He spoke rather proudly, and evidently thought she would know of whom he was telling her. "I fish for sarde now." "Is that better for you?" "Si, Signorina, of course." "I am glad of that." "Si, Signorina." He stood beside her quite at his ease.

"I am quite sure he speaks the truth," Artois said, in French. "Why do you come here?" asked the Marchesino. "Signore, I come to fish." "For cigarettes?" "No, Signore, for sarde. Buona notte, Signore." He turned away from them with decision, and went back to his boat. "He is a Sicilian," said Artois. "I would swear to it." "Why? Hark at his accent." "He is a Sicilian!" "But why are you so sure?"

It was not the fisherman's voice which had made Artois wonder, but the voice of the Marchesino. "There are generally plenty of sarde round the islet," continued the fisherman, "but if the Signori would not be too tired it would be best to stay out the night.

"In the boat. There will be a moon. We will dine at the Antico Giuseppone." "So far off as that?" Artois said, rather abruptly. "Why not? To-day I hate the town. I want tranquility. At the Antico Giuseppone there will be scarcely any one. It is early in the season. And afterwards we will fish for sarde, or saraglie. Take me away from Naples, Emilio; take me away!

Do you anticipate a knock and 'If you please, ma'am, Mrs. and the Misses Watson'? Good Heavens visitors on Monte Amato!" He smiled, but he persisted. "Never a contadino, or a shepherd, or" he looked down at the sea "or a fisherman with his basket of sarde?" Maurice moved in his chair, and Gaspare, hearing a word he knew, looked hard at the speaker.