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Occasionally
it was fitful, and when summoned by irony remained at a distance.
"It is true, Emilio, you have never seen me angry," he continued,
reverting to the remark of Artois; "you ought to. Till you have seen a
Panacci angry you do not really know him. With you, of course, I could
never be angry--never, never. You are my friend, my comrade. To you I
tell everything."
A sudden remembrance seemed to come to him. Evidently a new thought
had started into his active mind, for his face suddenly changed, and
became serious, even sentimental.
"What is it?" asked Artois.
"To-day, just now in the sea, I have seen a girl--Madonna! Emilio, she
had a little nose that was perfect--perfect. How she was simpatica!
What a beautiful girl!"
His whole face assumed a melting expression, and he pursed his lips in
the form of a kiss.
"She was in the sea, too?" asked Artois.
"No. If she had been! But I was with papa. It was just after we had
been serenading you. She had heard us, I am sure, for she was
laughing.


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