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Updated: June 14, 2025
He went out from the trees and Maurice heard his voice, then a man's, then Maddalena's. He waited where he was till he heard Gaspare say: "The padrone is just behind. Signorino, where are you?" "Here!" he answered, coming into the open with a careless air. Before the cottage door in the sunshine a great fishing-net was drying, fastened to two wooden stakes.
I will have no aspersions cast upon my cook." "Ah-h-h!" breathed Marietta, a tremulous sigh of relief. "It is not the Signorino, it is not the dinner, it is the world that is awry," Peter went on, in reflective melancholy. "'T is the times that are out of joint. 'T is the sex, the Sex, that is not well, that is not good, that needs a thorough overhauling and reforming."
He received it gravely, without surprise. "Don Francis," he said, "what do you expect of me, except 'Of course! It did not need much penetration on my part to see that you were a signorino. The whole of our company knew it.
"Well, a man must do something, must get on, and if I lived always here I should do nothing but enjoy myself." He was silent for a minute. Then he said: "And that's all I want to do, just to enjoy myself here in the sun." "Are you happy here, signorino?" "Yes, tremendously happy." "Why?" "Why because it's Sicily here! Aren't you happy?" "I don't know, signorino."
"Naturally, Signorino." "What makes you think so?" "But they will naturally come back." "I felicitate you upon your simple faith. When?" "Oh, fra poco. They have gone to Rome." "To Rome? You're trifling with me. People do not go to Rome in August." "Pardon, Signorino. People go to Rome for the feast of the Assumption. That is the 15th. Afterwards they come back," said Marietta, firmly.
"To you it would be nothing to buy all the donkeys at the fair of San Felice." Maurice moved ever so little away from him. "Ah, signorino, if I had been born you how happy I should be!" And he heaved a great sigh and puffed at the cigarette voluptuously. Maurice said nothing. He was still looking at the railway platform.
After we had gone a little way, the fishing hamlet we were making for came into view. Dominic stopped. "Do you think you can make your way as far as the houses by yourself?" he asked me quietly. "Yes, I think so. But why? Where are you going, Dominic?" "Anywhere. What a question! Signorino, you are but little more than a boy to ask such a question of a man having this tale in his family. Ah!
My landlord, I think, suspects that Medea must be some lady I met while I was staying by the seaside. I am sure Sora Serafina, Sora Lodovica, and Sora Adalgisa the three Parcae or Norns, as I call them have some such notion. This afternoon, at dusk, while tidying my room, Sora Lodovica said to me, "How beautifully the Signorino has taken to singing!"
"Signorino! Signorino! Look!" Gaspare had reached Maurice, and now stood by the little table at which his padrone and Maddalena were sitting, and placed the tortured parcel tenderly upon it. "Is that the clock?" Gaspare did not reply in words, but his brown fingers deftly removed the string and paper and undressed his treasure. "Ecco!" he exclaimed.
"Oh-h-h," groaned Marietta. She stared at the ceiling for an instant. The Cardinal patted her hand. "Courage, courage," he said. "Oh Signorino mio," she groaned again, "this you never can forgive me. It is about the little pig, the porcellino. The Signorino remembers the little pig, which he called Francesco?" "Yes," answered Peter.
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