“Nothing. I only said if I were weighed against a Greek coin—forged, my dear, that’s the sting of it,” she whispered to Teresa—“I shouldn’t have a chance.”
But her eyes smiled kindly as she looked at her big husband, whom she teased and adored.
Teresa laughed, and went back to get her drawing things. Nina carried them for her, almost the only personal service which the marchesa accepted. She looked so miserable that Teresa began to question her—
“What is the matter, Nina? Have you, perhaps, toothache again?”
“It is an ache here, eccellenza,” said Nina, laying her hand dramatically on her heart. “It is because there are bad people in the world.”
In spite of herself Donna Teresa laughed.
“At that rate I don’t know when the ache will stop. Have you met with any specially bad people at Taormina?”
“Altro!” Nina cried emphatically. “It is an evil place. See here, eccellenza, do not permit the signorina’s Englishman to walk at night. The nights are not wholesome.”
“Not wholesome? You mean dangerous? Ma, che! What absurdity!” She altered her tone a little. “If you are so unhappy away from Rome, I will send you back.”
“What good will that do the Englishman?” asked Nina gloomily. “Send Peppina, that might be better, eccellenza.”