'Tell me one thing.'

'Two if you like.'

'Who is that man there, near the door?'

'That one?' he said, peering as if he did not see well; 'it is Giovanni Astuti, the money-changer.'

'No, no! I know him—that other one.'

'Oh, it is somebody or other,' he said, rather embarrassed.

'Who is it?' said she severely.

'A friend of mine.'

'A friend—that ragged fellow a friend?'

'One can't always have rich friends,' was the answer, with rather a forced laugh.