“You know what that means?” he said cutely. “It means see Naples and die afterwards. Don’t die before you’ve seen it.” He smiled with a knowing smile.
“I see! I see!” she cried. “I never thought of that.”
He was pleased with her surprise and amusement.
“Ah Naples!” he said. “She is lovely—” He spread his hand across the air in front of him—“The sea—and Posilippo—and Sorrento—and Capri—Ah-h! You’ve never been out of England?”
“No,” she said. “I should love to go.”
He looked down into her eyes. It was his instinct to say at once he would take her.
“You’ve seen nothing—nothing,” he said to her.
“But if Naples is so lovely, how could you leave it?” she asked.
“What?”
She repeated her question. For answer, he looked at her, held out his hand, and rubbing the ball of his thumb across the tips of his fingers, said, with a fine, handsome smile: