“Do they look like the children of a Marchese? I ask you,” she said. “They were lost, and I have taken care of them out of charity! They sing and dance to pay for their keep, but it’s little enough they bring in at best! Old Ugolone is dead, and Luigi has stayed behind to dispose of the van and the donkeys. With the money he gets for them he’ll buy a boat and pick up a living on the canals. We shall go no more on tours about the country. It does not pay. There are as many soldi to be found in Venice as anywhere, and with the organ and Carina we shall get along, even with two extra mouths to feed!”
Giovanni’s mother winked her eye and nodded a great many times.
“Si, si,” she said. “There will be many tourists in Venice this summer, and it is not to believe the way Americans throw money about. Mario says their pockets are lined with gold!”
Sick with terror, the children turned away from Carlotta and looked out of the windows.
“See me,” said Giovanni. He wanted to do something to make himself admired after his recent humiliation, so he doubled himself across the sill of the open window and leaned far out over the canal which flowed directly beneath. “Look!” he cried, waving his legs at the peril of taking a header into the water.
His mother seized him. “Madonna mia,” she screamed, “that boy would rather drown than not,” and, giving him a smart
spank, she jerked him back into the room by a leg. Giovanni rubbed the spot and grinned sheepishly, as his mother followed up the punishment by a flow of speech which sounded to the Twins much like the chattering of the monkey. “Get along with you!” she said finally, giving him a shove.
“Come,” said Carlotta to the Twins when this little scene was over. “Soldi grow only in the street,” and, picking up the organ, she led the way down the stairs.
The children were glad to follow, for they preferred the streets to such a dwelling, and Giovanni, thinking it advisable to remain out of his mother’s sight for a while, followed them, carrying the monkey in his arms.