"They are
like the keys of a piano from Bordicelli's! Basta!" He dropped his
hands and opened his eyes. "Yesterday papa was walking in the Chiaia.
He met Signori Merani, and she began to abuse him. She had a red
parasol. She shook it at him! She called him vigliacco--papa, a
Panacci, dei Duchi di Vedrano! The parasol--it was a bright red, it
infuriated papa. He told the Signora to stop. She knows his temper.
Every one in Naples knows our tempers, every one! I, Viviano, even
Sigismondo, we are all the same, we are all exactly like papa. If we
are insulted we cannot control ourselves. You know it, Emilio!"
"I am perfectly certain of it," said Artois. "I am positive you none
of you can."
"It does not matter whether it is a man or a woman. We must do
something with our hands. We have got to. Papa told the Signora he
should strike her at once unless she put down the red parasol and was
silent. What did she do, the imbecile? She stuck out her face like
this,"--he thrust his face forward with the right cheek turned towards
Artois--"and said, 'Strike me! strike me!' Papa obeyed her.
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