"You forget Bramante!" cried the Marchese in tones of courteous anguish. "Aïe! you forget Bramante!"
"Most certainly I do not forget Bramante," said Aunt Clo with dignified annoyance. "But I put the Maestro first."
The Marchese bowed with a gesture that far outdid, in its appreciative humility, the tone of Aunt Clo's tribute, through which an undeniable asperity had pierced.
"E le due San Gallo?" murmured the Marchese.
"Penuzzi!" Aunt Clo retorted with flashing eyes.
"Rosellino," said the Marchese politely, but securing the last word, since Miss Stellenthorpe had nothing ready with which to defeat the recollection of Rosellino.
"Your aunt is a wonderful person," said Nicholas Aubray in lowered tones to Lily. "She knows everything about Art, I suppose?"
"Yes, I suppose she does."
"She and della Torre must revel in one another's company. He's a most artistic fellow, very well read and full of information. I knew they'd have a lot in common."
At the triumph in his tone, Lily turned to look at him. He was evidently not in the least ironical, but full of genuine pride and satisfaction at an encounter which he obviously accepted entirely at its face value.