'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.