The question was passed from one person to another, and it was discovered that Macarroni was going to sing. As a matter of fact, the fat Silenus did sing, and everybody was startled to hear a high tenor voice issue from within that voluminous human being. The fat Silenus had the misfortune to sing false in the midst of his bravest trills, and the poor soul was overcome, despite the applause.
“Poor Macarroni!” said Cæsar, “his high tenor heart must be broken to bits.” “He is going,” put in Mlle. Cadet. “What a shame!” Sileno vanished and the pianist began to play waltzes.
THE WORLD AS A ZOOLOGICAL GARDEN
Carminatti was the first on the floor with his partner, who was the Marchesa Sciacca.
The Maltese lady danced with an abandon and a feline languor that imposed respect. One of the San Martino girls, dressed in white, like a vaporous fairy, danced with an officer in a blue uniform, a slim, distinguished person with languid eyes and rosy cheeks, who caused a veritable sensation among the ladies.
The other San Martino, in pale pink, was on a sofa chatting with a man of the cut-throat type, of jaundiced complexion, with bright eyes and a moustache so long as almost to touch his eyebrows.
“He is a Sicilian,” Mlle. Cadet told Cæsar; “behind us here they are saying rather curious things about the two of them.”
The Countess Brenda’s daughter was magnificent, with her milk-white skin, and her arms visible through gauze. Despite her beauty she didn’t count many admirers; she was too insipid, and the majority of the young men turned with greater enthusiasm to the married women and to those of a very provocative type.
Mlle. de Sandoval, the most sought after of all, didn’t wish to dance.
“My daughter is really very stiff,” Mme. Dawson remarked. “Spanish women are like that.”