“No, not Signor Ou-ill, but Signor Will.”
“Signor W-W-Will.”
“Yes, that is it: Will.”
“Well, Signor W-Will,” she said coquettishly—“I have to prepare my mouth for it, or I cannot say it—I cannot stay with you. I have given my message, and must go back to Her Majesty.”
“Oh, Donna Rusidda!” he began reproachfully.
“Oh, what, Signor W-Will?”
“Are you not waiting for some answer from My Lady?”
“Perhaps. Have you a message which you wish the Signora Hamilton to give to me?”
“None that I would not rather give myself.”
“But I cannot take messages from a midshipman.”