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What might in former days have been a tragedy was nothing more than a farce. But it spoiled the night for Merrihew, and he was for going back to the hotel. Hillard agreed. "At first I wanted you to give him a good stiff punch," said Merrihew, "but I am glad you didn't." "We should have slept in the lockup over night if I had. The carabinieri would not have understood my excuses.
When the examination was over he paused in front of Merrihew, who puffed complacently. "Signore," the conductor said politely, "e vietato fumare." Merrihew replied with an uncomprehending stare. "Non fumer!" said the conductor, with his hand at the side of his mouth, as one does to a person who is suddenly discovered to be hard of hearing.
"I would travel the breadth of the continent were I sure of meeting this woman. But she has become a will-o'-the-wisp, and I am too old and like comfort too well to pursue impossibilities." "But why did she leave you that mask?" demanded Merrihew. "She must have meant something by that."
There's a certain whatdyecallit? eclaw about the demmed thing." "Wear it, by all means. You'll be as amusing as a comic weekly. But if you ever drop it, I'll step on it accidentally." "I can keep it in my eye all right," said Merrihew, "so long as I don't laugh. Now, while there's time, let us see some of the sights; the Golden House of Nero, for instance, and the Forum, the Colosseum, St.
Here Merrihew saw a tavern such as he had often conjured up while reading his Dumas; sausages and hams and bacons and garlic and cheeses and dried vegetables hanging from the ceiling, abrupt passages, rough tables and common chairs and strange dishes; oil, oil, oil, even on the top of his coffee-cup, and magnums of red and white Chianti.
I'm in the mood for it." So the two set out at the heels of the German tourists. They went through the cathedral and the ducal palace, and when the bronze clock beat out the noon hour Merrihew was bursting with information such as would have filled any ordinary guide-book. He never dreamed that the world held so many different kinds of stone or half so many saints.
His tongue longed to wag, but by this time he was readily obeying Hillard in all things. A neat little woman was buying corn. Hillard stepped over to her and touched her arm. As she faced him, he raised his hat, smiling. "Oh!" The corn spilled in a golden shower, and the doves, fickle as all flighty things are, deserted Merrihew for the moment. "And where may I find your distinguished mistress?"
Then, without further hesitance, indifferent to the future or the past, conscious only of the vast happiness of the present, Kitty laid her hand in his. He would have drawn her into his arms had not they both seen O'Mally pushing through the box-hedge, followed by some belated tourists. Merrihew swore softly and Kitty laughed.
The diplomat beckoned to the waiter. The waiter stepped forward with the coats and hats. His tip was exactly ten cents, and out of this the head waiter must have his percentage. Three nights later, as Hillard and Merrihew were dining together at the club, the steward came into the grill-room and swept his placid eye over the groups of diners.
It will make a good story for the Sunday papers. You won't be in it, unless she ropes you in as an accomplice. That would be rich!" "I'm a romantic ass!" Hillard sighed. Leddy Lightfinger! If this turned out to be the case, he would never trust a human being again; he would take to breeding dogs. "Let's take that ride on the horses," Merrihew urged.
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