"Yes, your eminence," said Testolini.
"He looks like Napoleon," whispered the head clerk to his neighbor.
The cardinal went limping down the shop. He had almost reached the door when he stopped and spoke to a little man who stood behind the show-case in which are the enamels.
"Ah, Signore!" he exclaimed, "how come on the wife and baby? I meant to see them this afternoon, but I was diverted. I wish you to continue the same diet for them—take this"—and he fumbled in his pocket, but drew a blank.
"Signor Testolini," he said to the master at his heels, "I find I have no money. Kindly loan me fifty lire. Here," he said to the little man, and he slipped the money into his hand, "plenty of milk for the child;" and he went out of the shop.
"That was not like Napoleon," said the head clerk; and then he added, "Occasionally one meets with a priest who rises superior to his profession."
The little man behind the enamel counter said nothing, but he drew his hand across his eyes.
III
The following day was a busy one for the cardinal. While Pietro was shaving him he parcelled out the hours.
"What time is it, Pietro?" he asked.