"How do they treat you? Do you get nice white bread with your meals, and is the spaghetti cooked done? Do you get used to those noisy streets?" This was Mamma talking.
"Do you like Anna more than me?" This was Teria.
"Did you bring me something? A calf vest, maybe? Is the bump still on Signor Ramalli's forehead?" This was Emilio.
And at long last, from Babbo, the question Giorgio wanted first: "How do you get along with the training of the horses? Tell us all about."
"We—ll—ll," Giorgio answered importantly, "I have four horses in my stable. I get along pretty well. Of course, there are some difficulties. First I have Ambra. She is fine, but has strong dislike for bridling. Then I have Lubiana, who is fine too, but sometimes stubborn like mule. And Dorina, she is awkward in changing gaits."
He saved the best until last. "And I have Imperiale. He is Arab, and he flies!" He turned his chair to face his father. "Now it is I who ask. Babbo! I saw today at Casalino a mare, gray and lightly specked with brown. She is poor and thin, and she pulls a miserable cart with traces and harness held together by rope. But she looks to be one of San Souci's get."
"She is!" exclaimed the father.
Giorgio's heart was a hammer. He could hardly wait to tell Signor Ramalli that now he was a real horseman. His questions came fast.
"How old is she?
"From where does she come?