"Bobby man!" he announced. And at once burst into the wildest chuckles, hugging Amaldi's head to him with both arms, springing in his grasp like a bewitched india-rubber ball—repeating over and over, "Bobby man!—Bobby man!"
Amaldi clasped him close. His dark face glowed with pleasure. All at once it came back to Sophy afresh that his tragic marriage had been childless. Her heart felt very pitiful towards him.
Here the door opened, and Chesney entered.
Amaldi rose with Bobby still in his arms.
"My husband—Marchese Amaldi," said Sophy.
"How d'ye do?" said Chesney. He was looking at Bobby. Then he turned to Sophy.
"Isn't it rather late for the little chap to be downstairs?" he asked.
"I was going to send him away in a few moments. But he's made such friends with the Marchese. Isn't it odd? Just look at him."
Chesney sank into an armchair, and Amaldi also sat down, keeping the boy in his arms. Bobby had suddenly grown quite still. He remained with his head against Amaldi's breast, his thumb in his mouth, looking fixedly at his father. His blurs of reddish eyebrow were drawn together.
"Little monkey! He's scowling at me——" observed Chesney, with his short laugh. "He's not a filial character—young Robert," he flung out carelessly, as though he might be addressing Amaldi, but he did not look at him; his eyes were fixed on the boy, and he himself was scowling slightly.