“Yes,” said Tiretta.
“I am not a bad fellow,” said Joseph. “Am I, Tiretta?”
“You are a very good fellow,” answered the soldier grumpily.
“And I am not a bad friend. You, too, are a good friend—one, I am sure, who would be glad to explain his comrade in the best light to one whose good opinion his comrade coveted.”
Tiretta did not answer for a moment. His eyebrows were a little up, his lips a little compressed. Presently he opened them.
“Let us speak without equivocation,” he said. “You wish me to go and act the part of Paolo to your Francesca.”
Joseph smiled.
“To speak what your heart believes of me.”
“I am to talk of the fairy prince, of his virtues, of his graces, of his capacity for romantic love and more lasting affection.”
“Say the best you can of me.”