"I'd like to make a lot of other things the first, too," muttered Johnny.
To Ri-Ri it seemed irrevocable things were being said. But she still held lightly away from him, resisting the clumsy pull of his arm. He hesitated--laughed oddly.
"It ought to be against the law for any girl to look the way you do, Ri-Ri." He laughed again. "I wonder if you know how the deuce you _do_ look?"
"Moonlight--you look as if you were made of it. . . . I could eat you up, Ri-Ri." His eyes on her red little mouth, on her white, beating throat. His voice had an odd, husky note.
"Don't be such a little frost, Ri-Ri. Don't you like me at all?"
It was the dream coming true. It was the fairy prince--not the false figure she had set in the prince's place, but a proud revenge upon him. This was reality, fulfillment.
She saw herself already married to Johnny, returning proudly with him to Italy. She saw them driving in a victoria, openly as man and wife--or no, Johnny would have a wonderful car, all metal and bright color. They would be magnificently touring, with their luggage strapped on the side, as she had seen Americans.
She saw them turning into the sombre courtway of the old Palazzo Santonini and, so surely had she been attuned to the American note, she could presage Johnny's blunt disparagement. He would be astonished that they were living upon the third floor--with the lower apartment let. He would be amused at the servants toiling up the stairs from the kitchens to the dining hall. He would be entertained at the solitary tub. He would be disgusted, undoubtedly, at the candles. . . .
But of course Mamma would have everything very beautiful. There would be no lack of candles. . . . The chandeliers would be sparkling for that dinner. There would be delicious food, delicate wines, an abundant gleam of shining plate and crystal and embroidered linens.
And how Lucia would stare, how dear Julietta would smile! She would buy Julietta the prettiest clothes, the cleverest hats. . . . She would give dear Mamma gold--something that neither dear Papa nor Francisco knew about--and to dear Papa and Francisco she would give, too, a little gold--something that dear Mamma did not know about.
For once Papa could have something for his play that was not a roast from his kitchen nor clothes from his daughters' backs nor oats from his horses!