Lucrezia was by the terrace wall looking over into the ravine. She could not see any moving figures, but she heard far down among the olives and the fruit trees Gaspare's voice singing "O sole mio!" and while she listened another voice joined in, the voice of the padrone:
"Dio mio, but they are merry!" she added, as the song was broken by a distant peal of laughter.
Hermione came out upon the steps. She had been in the sitting-room writing a letter to Miss Townly, who sent her long and tearful effusions from London almost every day.
"Have you got the frying-pan ready, Lucrezia?" she asked.
"The frying-pan, signora!"
"Yes, for the fish they are bringing us."
Lucrezia looked knowing.
"Oh, signora, they will bring no fish."
"Why not? They promised last night. Didn't you hear?"
"They promised, yes, but they won't remember. Men promise at night and forget in the morning."