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"No, I can't do it."
With equal suddenness and self-possession he became his smiling self
again.
"Viviano has studied in the monkey-house. And the monk looking the
other way when he passes along the Marina where the women are bathing
in the summer! He shall do that for you on Sunday afternoon when you
come to Capodimonte. It makes even mamma die of laughing, and you know
how religious she is. But then, of course, men--that does not matter.
Religion is for women, and they understand that quite well."
The Marchesino never made any pretence of piety. One virtue he had in
the fullest abundance. He was perfectly sincere with those whom he
considered his friends. That there could be any need for hypocrisy
never occurred to him.
"Mamma would hate it if we were saints," he continued.
"I am sure the Marchesa can be under no apprehension on that score,"
said Artois.
"No, I don't think so," returned the Marchesino, quite seriously.
He had a sense of humor, but it did not always serve him.


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