"Why don't you use your own gondola?" she persisted.
For an instant Uncle Dan's loyalty wavered, and he wondered whether Polly were not perhaps a trifle forward for so young a girl. He had not been struck by it before, and even now he would have challenged such a heresy in another; but, really,—
"Because this is the better gondola," Nanni replied, in the grave, impersonal tone which was in such marked contrast with his brother's eager alacrity.
"I wish Vittorio would get well," May exclaimed, impatiently; "this man isn't half as nice."
"Don't you think so?" Pauline queried. "He is a perfect gondolier."
"Yes; but he is so unapproachable. One could never get confidential with him; one would never ask him about his wife and children, and think how delighted Vittorio was to tell us about each individual bambino!"
"It would not be of much use to ask him," Uncle Dan interposed hastily. "For he hasn't any."
"I have an idea he is poor," said Pauline. "Even poorer than the rest of them. I wonder what is the reason."
"So do I," said May. "Nanni, is your gondola a very old one?"
"Si, Signorina; very old."