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"
"Grazie, Signore."
Gaspare sat down by the table, and Artois gave him some Nocera and
lemon-juice. He would not have brandy or whiskey, though he would not
have refused wine had it been offered to him.
"Where have you been?" Artois asked him.
"Signore, I have been all over the Piazza di Masaniello and the
Mercato. I have been through all the streets near by. I have been down
by the harbor. And the Signorina?"
He stared at Artois searchingly above his glass. His face was covered
with perspiration.
"I only saw her for a moment. She went to bed almost immediately."
"And that Signore?"
"He has gone home."
Gaspare was silent for a minute. Then he said:
"If I had met that Signore--" He lifted his right hand, which was
lying on the table, and moved it towards his belt.
He sighed, and again looked hard at Artois.
"It is better that I did not meet him," he said, with na?ve
conviction. "It is much better. The Signorina is not for him."
Artois was sitting opposite to him, with the table between them.


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