“Basta—had enough,” said Ciccio, with an invisible grimace.
“Come for a bit, and we’ll clear together.”
Ciccio again shook his head.
“What, is it adieu?”
Ciccio did not speak.
“Don’t go, comrade,” said Geoffrey.
“Faut,” said Ciccio, slightly derisive.
“Eh alors! I’d like to come with thee. What?”
“Where?”
“Doesn’t matter. Thou’rt going to Italy?”