Myself: Well, let me see. I don’t think I can exactly—
Caro: Tell us about the young ladies of Calatafimi, you like them better than you like us.
(Here sobs were heard; Nina’s head and shoulders had fallen over the back of her chair, her hair had come down an she was weeping gently but inconsolably.)
Myself: I shall be back in three days.
(Whereupon Nina recovered herself and fixed her eyes on the ceiling with an expression of beatific joy such as is worn by S. Caterina da Siena when the ring is being put on her finger in the pictures. Nina’s hair had now to be done up and it is magnificent hair, lustrous, black, wavy thick and long—for a girl of fourteen, wonderful. Her two sisters did it up as though it usually came down about this time of the evening and she submitted in the same spirit. It was no concern of ours.)
Papa: It is now one year since you were last in Palermo and it seems like yesterday—do I explain myself?
Gildo (so that everyone could hear): I have kept all your post-cards in a secret place. No one suspects that I have received them.
Aless: You must know that before Malagigi died he—
Caro: Signor Enrico, why do you wear spectacles?
Myself: In order that I may more clearly contemplate your beauty.