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Vittorio has cursed Loretta, torn her wedding ring from her finger, and thrown it in her face!" "Vittorio!" "Yes, he will listen to nothing! He is a crazy fool and I have done all I could. He believes every one of the lies that crab-catching brute of a Francesco is telling. It would be over by to-night, but Loretta does not take it like the others: she says nothing.
Towards San Giovanni dei Fiorentini, where the new Corso Vittorio Emanuele has ripped up every olden district, the lofty five-storeyed houses with their dazzling sculptured fronts contrasted violently with the black sunken dwellings of the neighbouring lanes.
However, the cab was already entering the Corso Vittorio Emanuele, which follows the Via Nazionale, these being the two piercings effected right across the olden city from the railway station to the bridge of St. Angelo. On the left-hand the rounded apsis of the Gesu church looked quite golden in the morning brightness.
Remember?" And so naturally they fell to recounting the splendid catches of the gamiest fish in water. When the interest in this waned, Hillard looked at his watch. "Only nine," he said. "Let's go over to Gambrinus' and hear the music." "And drink a boot of beer. Better than moping here." The Hotel Italie was but a few blocks from the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele.
Several times he mounted the upper deck of the Vittorio, and with a rifle in hand endeavored to get a chance to aim at the tall figure of which he now and then caught sight, and who he saw was directing everything that was going on. But every time he stood out with his rifle a pistol ball whizzed by him, and made him jump back.
When oxen were employed, the man used to ride, sometimes sitting on the yoke between them, and facing backward, so that he could watch them and see how they performed their work. He kept them up to their work by means of a small whip, which he had in his hand. After reaching the top of the ascent, Vittorio would stop, and the man would detach his oxen from the team.
The common friend, whose name has been engulfed into the unknowable, introduced to the Countess of Albany Count Vittorio Alfieri.
Then, as he and Pierre turned out of the Corso Vittorio Emanuele to thread the old narrow tortuous streets leading to the Via Giulia, he pictured himself dropping the note into the letter-box at the palazzo. And next he conjured up what would follow. The note would lie in the letter-box till morning.
George's party, was soon settled. Vittorio said that his regular price was three napoleons a day for a full party. This is about twelve dollars, and includes the keeping of the horses, and all the tolls, tariffs, and way expenses of every kind. Mr. George had ascertained that this was about the usual price, and he did not ask Vittorio to take any less.
The light had dropped from the campanile, and now it shone full upon the masts and rigging of an East Indiaman lying off San Giorgio Maggiore. Each rope and spar stood out in the intense white light, distinct as if cased in ice. "La luce elettrica," Vittorio observed, unable to suppress his pride in this new sensation furnished for the delectation of his Signorinas.
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