“I should have done the honest thing, signore.”
“Good boy,” said Tiretta. And then he added magnanimously: “Well, if you are successful, you can keep it for your pains.”
That was generous of him, since the ring did not belong to him to dispose of—a conclusion perhaps shrewdly appreciated by the owlish urchin.
“I do not want it,” said Bissy, aggrieved and righteous. “The most I should expect would be a lira for my trouble. Her Excellency, no doubt, will give me that for her slipper.”
“What slipper, boy?”
“The one she lost in the pool. I found that, though I could not find the other.”
A sudden warmth seemed to suffuse Tiretta’s whole being. He held out his hand nonchalantly.
“I am staying at Colorno. I shall probably see her Highness this afternoon. Give it me, and I will return it to her.”
Bissy, still wiping his eyes, shook his head.
“I want the credit myself. Besides, I have not got it with me.”