Aunt Caroline steadied herself against the bishop's arm.
"The signor," explained Bill, "unconsciously slips into the vernacular."
"Slippin' it in on th' vernacular is one o' me best tricks," assented the signor. "Lady, I remember once I caught a guy on th' vernacular——"
Bill was pinching him. The signor remembered and shifted his attack.
"See them mitts?" he asked, as he held forth a pair of knotted hands. "All in the same game, lady. Y' see, I got a studio in Naples, just like th' one I got over on th' East Side. This is th' way I get from handlin' them big hunks of Carranza marble."
Again Bill pinched the sculptor, who inclined his tin ear for counsel.
"Cheese it, Kid; you're in Mexico. Get it right—Carrara."
"Sure," observed the signor, undisturbed. "This here Carrara marble, lady, is all heavyweight stuff. It's like goin' outa y'r class t' handle it. I don't take it on regular."
"I—I've heard so much of the Carrara marble," said Aunt Caroline.