1st Lady. Mr. James can tell you all about that. I think he did succeed in getting a sketch of the girl, if not of her grandfather. I don’t know where he keeps it, unless it is worn next his heart. It is not among the sketches that he shows to people. In fact, everything about this family is mysterious and uncommon.
A gentleman. What is it, Mr. James? The story promises to be interesting.
Mr. James (sotto voce). Damn the women! (Aloud.) This old professor, I am told, came here fifteen years ago, some say, from the East. Shortly after, his widowed daughter with her little girl followed him. I am not aware that they behaved in a mysterious manner, unless it is a mystery that people should be able to live quietly and innocently, and mind their own business; all which the Mora certainly achieved. They were not rich, but to the poor and unfortunate they were angels of mercy.
1st Lady (striking in). Everybody didn’t think so.
Mr. James. Everybody doesn’t think that God is good. Of course there were servants’ stories and gossips’ stories, and those who wished to believe them did believe them.
Gentleman. Will the girl be left alone?
1st Lady. Do not cherish any hopes, sir. The mother is dead; but the young lady has an admirer. He is a fine young man with a palace and an ancestry, and the most beautiful eyes in the world. She goes out with him in his gondola by moonlight. It is so romantic!
Mr. James. Did you ever see them out together by moonlight, or at any other hour?
1st Lady. Others have.
Mr. James. What others? Name one!