"No, no. Nothing is settled! With her what would I do? Where would I keep her? Who would exercise her? I have nobody to do this. Besides, she has the nervous malady."
Giorgio's mouth went dry. He could not speak. He took a gulp of coffee, but still no words came.
The Chief was using both hands now, his words ringing sharp and clear. "In spite that she did not reach expectation, in spite that she is tortured by the bad leg and the nervous tic, the daughter of Sans Souci deserves better than to be put down."
Suddenly the boy found his voice. "Oh, I believe it, too! I believe!"
"The money to buy her—that I now have."
Giorgio's heart raced. He thought he had the answer. He knew it was the answer. "I ... I will train her!" he gasped.
There was no reply. Only the flute piping in the palace window.
Giorgio leaped to his feet, almost upsetting his chair. "Do not worry about the stable," he said. "In the Maremma I can winter her. Babbo has a very nice barn. Nobody lives there, nobody but little Pippa, our donkey."
Still no reply.
Giorgio persisted. "Signore! I myself can ride her to Monticello. At once!"