“I want to see them,” she said.
“Marasca Giovanni,” he wrote, and under that “Califano Maria.”
She looked at the four names, in the graceful Italian script. And one after the other she read them out. He corrected her, smiling gravely. When she said them properly, he nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “That’s it. You say it well.”
At that moment Miss Pinnegar came in to say Mrs. Rollings had seen another of the young men riding down the street.
“That’s Gigi! He doesn’t know how to come here,” said Ciccio, quickly taking his hat and going out to find his friend.
Geoffrey arrived, his broad face hot and perspiring.
“Couldn’t you find it?” said Alvina.
“I find the house, but I couldn’t find no door,” said Geoffrey.
They all laughed, and sat down to tea. Geoffrey and Ciccio talked to each other in French, and kept each other in countenance. Fortunately for them, Madame had seen to their table-manners. But still they were far too free and easy to suit Miss Pinnegar.