“Going to announce it tonight. Says he’ll summon a gathering worthy of the event.”
“Poor father,” murmured Florence. Her face had grown sad.
“He’s delightful,” cried De Medici.
“He’s the most charming man in the world,” she added.
The driver put in an apologetic appearance.
“Where to?” he asked.
“I think we’d better go back to the theater,” Florence murmured. De Medici gave the direction.
“Well,” she smiled as they started again, “from a literary point of view your proposal has been a decided failure. I rather expected something—bizarre.”
“Give me time,” De Medici smiled. “I’ll improve. But why to the theater now?”
“There’s a matinée today.”