“Which other one?”
“The one that was talking to me to-night—Bolla.”
“Do you know him well?” Arthur put in with a little touch of jealousy. Bolla was a sore subject with him; there had been a rivalry between them about some work which the committee of Young Italy had finally intrusted to Bolla, declaring Arthur too young and inexperienced.
“I know him pretty well; and I like him very much. He has been staying in Leghorn.”
“I know; he went there in November———”
“Because of the steamers. Arthur, don't you think your house would be safer than ours for that work? Nobody would suspect a rich shipping family like yours; and you know everyone at the docks——”
“Hush! not so loud, dear! So it was in your house the books from Marseilles were hidden?”
“Only for one day. Oh! perhaps I oughtn't to have told you.”
“Why not? You know I belong to the society. Gemma, dear, there is nothing in all the world that would make me so happy as for you to join us—you and the Padre.”
“Your Padre! Surely he——”