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I dived under the boat in which she was. I did all my tricks
for her. I did the mermaid and the seal. She was delighted. She never
took her eyes from me. As to papa--she never glanced at him. Poor
papa! He was angry. She had her mother with her, I think--a Signora,
tall, flat, ugly, but she was simpatica, too. She had nice eyes, and
when I did the seal she could not help laughing, though I think she
was rather sad."
"What sort of boat were they in?" Artois asked, with sudden interest.
"A white boat with a green line."
"And they were coming from the direction of Posilipo?"
"Ma si! Emilio, do you know them? Do you know the perfect little
nose?"
The Marchesino laid one hand eagerly on the arm of his friend.
"I believe you do! I am sure of it! The mother--she is flat as a
Carabiniere, and quite old, but with nice eyes, sympathetic,
intelligent. And the girl is a little brown--from the sun--with eyes
full of fun and fire, dark eyes. She may be Italian, and yet--there is
something English, too.


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