"Ecco the gathering of the geese!" said the Marchesino, touching Artois on the arm. "And that"--he pointed to the stout lady, who at this moment tossed her head till her veil swung loose like a sail suddenly deserted by the wind--"is the goose-mother. Buona sera, Marchesa! Buona sera--molto piacere. Carlo, buona sera--a rivederci, Contessa! A questa sera."
He showed his splendid teeth in a fixed but winning smile, and, hat in hand, went by, walking from his hips. Then, replacing his hat on his head, he added to his friend:
"The Marchesa is always hoping that the Duchessa d'Aosta will come one day, if only for a moment, to smile upon the geese. But--well, the Duchessa prefers to climb to the fourth story to see the poor. She has a heart. Let us sit here, Emilio."
They sat down under the trees, and the Marchesino looked at his pointed boots for a moment in silence, pushing forward his under lip until his blond mustache touched the jaunty tip of his nose. Then he began to laugh, still looking before him.
"Emilio mio! And that you should be asking me to show you Naples! It is too good! C'est parfait!"
"And Maria Fortunata! Santa Maria of the Toledo, the white-haired protectress of the strangers! Emilio--you might have come to me! But you do not trust me. Ecco! You do not--"
"Ma si! All Naples saw you. Do you not know that the Galleria is full--but full--of eyes?"
He shrugged his shoulders, lifted his hands, his eyebrows. His whole being seemed as if it were about to mount ironically towards heaven.
Artois spoke quietly, but there was a sound in his voice which caused his frivolous companion to stare at him with an inquiry that was, for a moment, almost sulky.
Artois was about to allude to his real self, to point out the improbability of a man so mental, so known, so travelled as he was, falling like a school-boy publicly into a sordid adventure. But he stopped, realizing the uselessness of such an explanation. And he could not tell the Marchesino the truth of his shadowy colloquy in a by-street with the old creature from behind the shutter.
"You have made a mistake about me," he said. "But it is of no consequence. Look! There is another goose coming."
He pointed with his cane in the direction of the chatterers near the kiosk.