“It doesn’t matter, Vere. My friend is not too sensitive.”
“Buona sera, Signorina! Buona sera, Signora! Buon riposo!”
It was Ruffo preparing to go, feeling that he scarcely belonged to this company, although he looked in no way shy, and had been smiling broadly at Vere’s narrative of the discomfiture of the Marchesino.
“Ruffo,” said Hermione, “you must wait a moment.”
“Si, Signora?”
“I am going to give you a few more cigarettes.”
Vere sent a silent but brilliant “Thank you” to her mother. They all walked towards the house.
Vere and her mother were in front, Artois and Ruffo behind. Artois looked very closely and even curiously at the boy.
“Have I ever seen you before?” he asked, as they came to the bridge.
“Signore?”