Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Signore," returned Maso, uncovering himself again, though his manner betrayed profound personal respect rather than the deference of the vulgar, "I was born in the city of palaces, though it was my fortune first to see the light beneath a humble roof. The poorest of us are proud of the splendor of Genova la Superba, even if its glory has come from our own groans." The Signor Grimaldi frowned.
Vervain; there's no American squadron here that I could order to bombard Fusina, if they didn't mind me. But I'll see what I can do further in quality of courteous foreigner. Can you perhaps tell me how long you will be obliged to detain us here?" he asked of the guard again. "I am very sorry to detain you at all, signore. But what can I do? The commissary is unhappily absent.
You, setting at defiance the malarial fever, mean to stay here and haunt your beloved galleries through the summer. Now, four months hence, unless you hear more from me, I would have you deliver the packet according to its address." Hilda read the direction; it was to Signore Luca Barboni, at the Plazzo Cenci, third piano.
"Am I aught else? am I not this Gaetano? that Gaetano thy Gaetano, old and very dear friend?" "Thou Gaetano!" exclaimed the Bernois, recoiling a step, instead of advancing to meet the eager embrace of the Genoese, whose impetuous feelings were little cooled by time "thou, the gallant, active, daring, blooming Grimaldi! Signore, you trifle with an old man's affections."
"Father Xavier is a hospitable and a happy-minded priest, Signore; and that the saints will long leave him keeper of the convent-keys, is the prayer of every muleteer, guide, or pilgrim, who crosses the col.
It was evident that he was at a loss. He wished to appear acute, but the inquiry yielded nothing for the exercise of his talents. At last he said: "Did any one see you going to Messina? Is there any corroboration of your statement that you started before the signore came down here?" "Do you think I am not speaking the truth, Signor Pretore?" said Salvatore, proudly. "Why should I lie?
She lifted her shoulders, and, after a second's cold pause, said they were people from down below, and then, in her rather strident, shrill, slightly bitter, slightly derogatory voice, she added: 'They are not people for you, signore. You don't know them. She spoke slightly angrily and contemptuously of them, rather protectively of me.
"It is you who should beg our pardon you, who are so ready to believe the tales that are told in the cafés and to come here to abuse helpless women. You are a coward, signore. Oh, how I hate men ... Judges in Israel ... I would have them stoned first. What's that?" There was shouting in the street, and then a loud knocking on the house door. The women looked at each other with frightened eyes.
"By the way," Uncle John asked the driver, "do you know of a duke that lives in this neighborhood?" The laughing face of the Sicilian suddenly turned grave. "No, signore. There is the Prince di Scaletta; but no duke on this side the town." "But on the other side?" "Oh; in the mountains? To be sure there are noblemen there; old estates almost forgotten in our great civilization of to-day.
But the rudest among them were certain Germans, who not only talked but stood upon a seat to see better, and were ordered down by one of the Swiss with a fierce "Giù, signore, giù!" Otherwise the guard kept good order in the chapel, and were no doubt as useful and genuine as any thing about the poor old Pope. What gorgeous fellows they were, and, as soldiers, how absurd!
Word Of The Day