"Oh, signore, but you must be here, too, then."
"All right. Come and fetch me if you like. I shall be over there under the trees."
He waved his hand vaguely towards the lemon groves.
"Now, choose a good apron. Don't let them cheat you."
"Macchè!"
The boy laughed loudly, and turned eagerly to the stall again.
"Come, Maddalena!"
Maurice drew her quickly, anxiously, out of the crowd, and they began to walk across the watercourse towards the farther bank and the group of olive-trees. Salvatore had forgotten them. So had Gaspare. Both father and servant were taken by the fascination of the fair. At last! But how late it must be! How many hours had already fled away! Maurice scarcely dared to look at his watch. He feared to see the time. While they walked he said nothing to Maddalena, but when they reached the bank he took her arm and helped her up it, and when they were at the top he drew a long breath.
"Are you tired, signorino?"
"Tired—yes, of all those people. Come and sit down, Maddalena, under the olive-trees."