Gustavo’s fascinated gaze had been fixed upon the sugar bowl and he had only half caught the words.
“Scusi, signore, I no understand.”
“Just sit down, Gustavo, it makes me nervous to see you standing all the time. I can’t be comfortable, you know, unless everybody else is comfortable. Now pay strict attention and see if you can grasp my meaning.”
Gustavo dubiously accepted the edge of the indicated chair; he wished to humor the signore’s mood, however incomprehensible that mood might be. For half an hour he listened with strained attention while the gentleman talked and toyed with the sugar bowl. Amazement, misgiving, amusement, daring, flashed in succession across his face; in the end he leaned forward with shining eyes.
“Si, si,” he whispered after a conspiratorial glance over his shoulder, “I will do it all; you may trust to me.”
The young man rose, removed the sugar bowl, and sauntered on toward the road. Gustavo pocketed the notes and gazed after him.
“Dio mio,” he murmured as he set about gathering up the glasses, “zese Americans!”
At the gate the young man paused to light another cigarette.
“Addio, Gustavo,” he called over his shoulder, “don’t forget the earrings!”