But presently their pleasure and success recalled to him
something which he had momentarily forgotten, the reason why he had
planned this expedition. He was in pursuit. The recollection cheered
him up, restored to him the strength of his manhood, put him right
with himself. The envy and the almost sickly sentimentality vanished
from him, and he broke into the usual gay conversation which seldom
failed him, either by day or night.
It was past nine before they had finished their coffee. The two
boatmen had been regaled and had drunk a bottle of wine, and the moon
was rising and making the oil lamps of the Guiseppone look pitiful.
From the table where the canzonettiste were established came peals of
laughter, which obviously upset the seven large and respectable women
who had been eating oysters, and who now sat staring heavily at the
gay revellers, while the two thin middle-aged men with bright eyes
began to look furtively cheerful, and even rather younger than they
were. The musicians passed round a small leaden tray for soldi, and
the waiter brought the Marchesino the bill, and looked inquiringly at
Artois, aware that he at least was not a Neapolitan.
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