‘Ecco! my friends. Isn’t he beautiful?’ she demanded.
Mr. Copley and Sybert sprang to their feet and came forward interestedly.
‘Who denies now that it’s clothes that make the man?’
‘I can’t say but that he was as picturesque last night,’ her uncle returned; ‘but he’s undoubtedly cleaner this morning.’
‘Where’s Gerald?’ asked Sybert. ‘Let’s see what he has to say of the new arrival.’
Gerald, who had but just discovered Marcellus, was delightedly romping in the garden with him, and was dragged away under protest and confronted with the stranger. He examined him in silence a moment and then remarked, ‘He’s got my cloves on.’ And suddenly, as a terrible idea dawned upon him, he burst out: ‘Is he a new bruvver? ‘Cause if he is you can take him away.’
‘Oh, my dear!’ his mother remonstrated in horror. ‘He’s a little Italian boy.’
Gerald was visibly relieved. He examined Gervasio again from this new point of view.
‘I want to go wifout my shoes and socks,’ he declared.
‘Oh, but he’s going to wear shoes and socks, too, as soon we can get some to fit him,’ said Marcia.