“Well, perhaps it is nice,” said his wife doubtfully. “But we must call at the hotel and get waterproofs.”
“Nothing easier.”
“And I won’t be led into any danger, mind.”
Bice still persisted that she must go back, indeed she was sufficiently Italian to think with horror of walking in the rain. At the foot of the stairs young Moroni was waiting, rather to everybody’s astonishment; but he only said simply that he had heard the Signorina Capponi was here, and had come to see if he could be of any use.
“What does he expect to do?” Bice whispered to Phillis. But she was smiling.
The four ladies drove to the Alemagna, while the gentlemen walked, and then Bice went home alone, and the others fitted themselves out for their little expedition. Just as they came down, ready to start, Jack Ibbetson, with Cartouche at his heels, turned into the entrance passage.
“The Tiber is rising,” he said eagerly. “West tells me the sight out by the Ponte Molle is very striking. It struck me some of you might like to go there.”
“Well, yes,” said Captain Leyton, pulling his whiskers. “We were going to the Ripetta, but I don’t know—suppose we make a bolder push. What do you say, Miss Penington?”
“I think it would be much nicer,” she said with great emphasis.
“Then we’ll do it.”