Luca kissed his compatriot's forehead. "Poverino! he is wearied by me, for I have given him no rest. He bears in his heart three things only: woman, love, and music."
Just then the group was augmented by the Dane.
"Plague take it!" said he; "if I had known that la belle dame would not be here, I would not have tired myself out to join you. I had a great desire to go to the theatre; primitive and barbarous as it is, I might have passed an agreeable evening there. I have been drawn to Aqua Sola by the remembrance of two lovely eyes, a little faded, perhaps, but full of expression. If she had been coming she would be here by this time. I have been deceived."
"You have yet time to go to the theatre," said the Tsigane indifferently, as he lit his cigar.
"Very true! But if, by chance, she should come. She, the unknown. She? Who is she?"
"A retired artiste singing only occasionally, as she has told us herself," replied the Tsigane; "a priestess of Thalia. I doubt if she is a Vestal. Hum!"
"Widow," added Luca.
"A widow! The title is appropriate. But she is escorted by two admirers," said the Dane: "a Russian and a Pole. Who are they? Are they rich or poor? How long has she known them? Chi lo sa?"
"Chi lo sa?" repeated Primate.
And Barbara added: "We know that the Russian is a refugee. If, in leaving his country, he has brought his purse with him he is a dangerous rival, for the Russians are said to be fabulously rich. It is said that each noble receives from the Czar his share of the gold mines of the Ural Mountains. But if in saving his head he has not saved his purse, and if he has no private resources, he becomes much less vulnerable. As for the young Galician, he has his youth, which is a capital. But you, messieurs, as Poles, can better judge of the worth of your compatriot."