“Ah! ah!” was his salutation, as he took off his spectacles and placed them on his book.
“Does the curate think I have come at too late an hour?” said Tony, bowing: Jervase awkwardly followed his example.
“Certainly, it is late; late on all accounts. Do you know that I am ill?”
“Oh! I am sorry.”
“Did you not hear that I was sick, and could not be seen? But why is this boy with you?”
“For company, Signor Curate.”
“Well; let us see.”
“Here are twenty-five new pieces, with the image of St. Ambrose on horseback,” said Tony, drawing forth a little bundle from his pocket.
“Give here,” said Don Abbondio; and taking the bundle, he opened it, counted the money, and found it correct.
“Now, sir, you will give me the necklace of my Teela.”