Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 16, 2025
"So much the better. Go and make the bandages." Dalrymple pushed Stefanone towards the door with one hand, while he continued to fasten his clothes with the other. Stefanone was not without some experience of similar cases, so he picked up his lantern and went off.
Do not complain afterwards that we make you die of hunger." "Bread, Annetta!" said Stefanone, gruffly but good-naturedly. "And cheese, and salt wine, too! A thousand things! Quickly, my daughter." "Quicker than this?" inquired the girl, who had already placed most of the things he asked for upon the table. "I say it to say it," answered her father. "'Hunger makes long jumps, and I am hungry."
Then he brought bread, a measure of wine, an iron spoon, and a two-pronged fork. Stefanone eat the soup without a word, breaking great pieces of bread into it. Then he pulled out his clasp-knife and opened it; the long blade, keen as a razor and slightly curved, but dark and dull in colour, snapped to its place, as the ring at the back fell into the corresponding sharp notch.
By and by, as Dalrymple still stood by the door, Stefanone appeared, having been to play a game of cards at a friendly wine-shop. He sat down by Sora Nanna at the table. She was mixing some salad in a big earthenware bowl adorned with green and brown stripes. They talked together in low tones.
After what he had said to Stefanone, the latter, if he meant to kill his man, would not lose a day. IT was past midday when Paul Griggs reached the Palazzetto Borgia and inquired for Donna Francesca. He was told that she was out. It was her custom, the porter said, always to breakfast on Sundays with her relatives, the Prince and Princess of Gerano.
And Sor Tommaso, like all people who think that they know a vast deal, highly approved of Dalrymple's submissive silence, and said that the young man was a marvel of modesty, and that if he could stay about ten years in Subiaco and learn something from Sor Tommaso himself, he might really some day be a fairly good doctor, which were extraordinarily liberal admissions on the part of the old practitioner, and contributed largely towards reassuring Stefanone concerning his lodger's character.
"You who are a foreigner and a Protestant, can you not say something, since it would be no sin for you?" "I was thinking of something to say, Signor Stefanone. But as for that, who does the business for the convent? They cannot do it themselves, I suppose. Who determines the price of their wine for them? Or the price of their corn?" "They are not so stupid as you think. Oh, no!
"The hotel is doubtless full of rich foreigners," observed Stefanone. "It is indeed beautiful. I should prefer it to the Palazzo Borghese. Is it not full?" "Quite full," answered the porter, proud of the establishment. "For instance," said Stefanone, "I saw a great signore going in, just before I took the liberty of speaking with you. I am sure that he is a great English signore.
When Griggs had paid him the money, he lingered a moment and looked about the room. "Signore, you have changed the furniture," he observed. "That chair was formerly here. This table used to be there. There are a thousand changes." "Yes," said Griggs, taking up his pen to go on with his work. "You have good eyes," he added good-naturedly. "Two," assented Stefanone; "each better than the other.
"Of course I have always known Subiaco, and every one there knows Stefanone, and the story of his daughter who ran away with an Englishman many years ago, and never was heard of again." Lord Redin grew a trifle paler. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "Does every one know that story?" There was something so constrained in his tone that Francesca looked at him curiously. "Yes in Subiaco," she answered.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking