"Si, signore. For the signora to ride when she comes back from Africa?"
He smiled.
"For a lady to ride," Maurice answered, looking at Maddalena.
Salvatore made a clicking noise with his tongue, a noise that suggested eating. Then he spat vigorously and took from his jacket-pocket a long, black cigar. This was evidently going to be a great day for him.
"Avanti, signorino! Avanti!"
Gaspare was shouting and waving his hat frantically from the road.
"Come along, Maddalena!"
They left the beach and climbed the bank, Maddalena walking carefully in the shining shoes, and holding her green skirt well away from the bushes with both hands. Maurice hurried across the railway line without looking at it. He wanted to forget it. He was determined to forget it, and what it was bringing to Cattaro that afternoon. They reached the group of four donkeys which were standing patiently in the dusty white road.
"Mamma mia!" ejaculated Gaspare, as Maddalena came full into his sight. "Madre mia! But you are like a burgisa dressed for the wedding-day, Donna Maddalena!"
He wagged his head at her till the big roses above his ears shook like flowers in a wind.