“You’re splendid, Patty,” said Flo, who was struggling hard to keep from crying. “I’m no good at all, but I’ll do just as you say.”
They went on to the platform, where a dozen or more omnibuses stood waiting, with their doors hospitably open. Names of hotels were in gilded letters over the doors, but Patty could not see the one she sought.
But at last she discovered an official, who seemed to be a sort of station agent or train-despatcher, and he had such a kindly, intelligent face that she addressed him:
“Do you speak English?” she said.
“Yes, miss, a little,” he replied, looking at her with a questioning expression.
“Then please tell me where is the Royal Danieli Hotel?”
“It is in Venice, miss.”
“Oh, yes, of course, I know it is in Venice; but I mean where is its omnibus? how can I get to it?”
“To get to it, you must go to Venice, ma’am.”