At these words the good people burst out laughing. As I did not think that there was anything very comic in what I had said, I judged that my travelling companions were rather simple, and I was not sorry to find them so.
“Why do you laugh so heartily, beautiful ‘demigella’? Is it to shew me your fine teeth? I confess that I have never seen such a splendid set in Venice.”
“Oh! it is not for that, sir, although everyone in Venice has paid me the same compliment. I can assure you that in P—— all the girls have teeth as fine as mine. Is it not a fact, uncle?”
“Yes, my dear niece.”
“I was laughing, sir, at a thing which I will never tell you.”
“Oh! tell me, I entreat you.”
“Oh! certainly not, never.”
“I will tell you myself,” says the curate.
“You will not,” she exclaims, knitting her beautiful eyebrows. “If you do I will go away.”
“I defy you to do it, my dear. Do you know what she said, sir, when she saw you on the wharf? ‘Here is a very handsome young man who is looking at me, and would not be sorry to be with us.’ And when she saw that the gondoliers were putting back for you to embark she was delighted.”