"Ah? So she has been examining his photographs!"
"Of course!" Nina laughed. "Oh, please tell me something about him! Does he speak English? French? Or shall I have to struggle in broken Italian? Is he like Uncle Sandro?"
"Wait until you see him."
"At least tell me does he speak English?"
"He speaks beautiful French."
"Which means, I suppose, that he speaks monkey English!"
But the princess vouchsafed no reply.
"Well, but really, I do think you might tell me something! Is he attractive?"
The Princess assumed a tantalizing air—"That also I am going to leave you to find out when you see him. At all events he is young—that is compared to your uncle and me. It has been dull for you, darling, with no one your own age."
Nina interrupted her reproachfully. "Don't you dare! To hear you, one might suppose you were a hundred. I don't care a bit whether Don Giovanni is a Calaban or an Antinous—All the same," she laughed, "had I better tidy my hair—or does it not matter?"