Nina put up her opera glass and encountered an insolent stare, as though the Contessa Potensi were purposely disdainful of the American girl.
"She is the same one with whom Don Giovanni danced opposite in the quadrille! Heavens! but she is a disagreeable person!"
"She has reason for looking disagreeable," announced the Contessa Zoya with a meaning laugh; but more she would not say.
Giovanni leaned over Nina's chair. "Do you find the Romans attractive? How does our opera compare with that of New York?"
"The house seems made of cardboard," Nina answered. "I never thought our opera houses especially wonderful——"
"No?" Giovanni rallied her. "Is it possible that you have anything in America that is not the most wonderful in the world! I am sure you will say your opera house is bigger! And richer! and more comfortable! Yes? Of course it is!" He laughed. "My apple is bigger than your apple. My doll is bigger than your doll! What children you are, you Americans!"
"If we are children," retorted Nina, piqued by his laughter, "we must be granted the advantages of youth!"
With a sudden gravity, but none the less mockingly, Giovanni besought her for enlightenment.
"We gain in enthusiasm, energy, and honesty," she announced sententiously. "A country and a people never attain perfection of finish until they have begun to grow decadent. I'd rather have my doll and my big apple than sit, like an old cynic, in the corner, watching the children play!"
She was immensely pleased with this speech,—mentally she quite preened herself. Giovanni looked amused, but the Contessa Potensi caught his glance from across the house, and his smile faded as he bowed. Nina, who had good eyes, saw a complete change in her face as she returned his salutation.