The carter was unabashed. He grinned, showing yellow, horselike teeth. "She has the name Farfalla. She is daughter from Maremma mare and Sans Souci."
"Incredible!" the Signore exclaimed. "That accounts for the quality look."
"Eh?" the driver asked, holding up his trumpet.
"Incredible!"
The grin widened. "How long you stay in Maremma?"
"Today only."
The carter scratched his nose thoughtfully. Money jingling in his pocket and wine on the table would be better than a no-good mare. "Signore," he said in a nasal, wheedling voice, "you like buy my mare?"
Signor Busisi made no answer. At close range he saw that she was no longer young. "What age has she?" he asked.