On the sixteenth he issued forth into life again in a mood that was
dangerous. The fever that had abandoned his body was raging in his
mind. He was in the temper which had governed his papa on the day of
the slapping of Signora Merani's face in the Chiaia.
The Marchesino always thought a great deal about his personal
appearance, but his toilet on the night of the sixteenth was unusually
prolonged. On several matters connected with it he was undecided.
Should he wear a waistcoat of white pique or one of black silk? Should
he put on a white tie, or a black? And what about rings?
He loved jewelry, as do most Neapolitans, both male and female, and
had quantities of gaudy rings, studs, sleeve links, and waistcoat
buttons. In his present mood he was inclined to adorn himself with as
many of them as possible. But he was not sure whether the English
liked diamonds and rubies on a man. He hesitated long, made many
changes, and looked many times in the glass. At last he decided on a
black tie, a white waistcoat with pearl buttons, a pearl shirt-stud
surrounded with diamonds, pearl and diamond sleeve-links, and only
three rings--a gold snake, a seal ring, and a ring set with
turquoises.
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