“I like-a you, Miss Marion. You look like my countrywomen.”
Miss Darling had said to me that night:
“Be careful how you flirt with an Italian. They are pretty dangerous fire to play with.”
So when that night of the party, Benevenuto asked me if he might call, I thought of that, and I said:
“Oh, I’ll see you when you are playing in Mr. Evans’ room some night.”
“No,” he persisted. “I like-a make special call on you. Please to permit.”
To humor him, I said:
“Oh, all right, and bring your mandolin.”
He smiled at me ecstatically and said fervently:
“Me—I am coming right away to-morrow night.”