“Diavolo! He is jealous. He has not been tried yet, perhaps he never will be. His wife has gone into Naples to-day to see him.”
“Oh, she’s away?”
“Si, Signore.”
“And her name, her Christian name? It’s Maria, isn’t it?”
“No, Signore, Maddalena—Maddalena Bernari.”
Artois said nothing for a minute. Then he added:
“I suppose there are plenty of Maddalenas here in Mergellina?”
The man laughed.
“Si Signore. Marias and Maddalenas—you find them everywhere. Why, my own mamma is Maddalena, and my wife is Maria, and so is my sister.”
“Exactly. And your name? I want it, so that when next I take a boat here I can ask for yours.”