"No!" she answered shortly.
"Oh, then, I suppose there is something morally wrong," he observed, in a satisfied tone, as if he knew from experience that that was a small thing compared with the other complaint.
They sat together at the wedding breakfast, but Angelica continued silently observant.
Diavolo had brought a big boiled shrimp in his pocket.
It was black and of great age, and he managed to fasten it adroitly on the shoulder of the lady who sat next him, so that its long antenna tickled her neck, and provoked her attention to it.
Glancing down sideways, and catching a glimpse of black eyes and many legs, she thought it was some horrid creature with a sting, and jumped up, shrieking wildly, to everybody's consternation.
Angelica declared it was a stupid trick.
"Well, you put me up to it yourself," Diavolo grumbled.
"Did I?" she snapped. "Then I was wrong."
Somebody began to make a speech, which was all in praise of the lovely bride; and Diavolo, listening to it, and remembering that he had wished to marry her himself, became intensely sentimental. He recovered his shrimp, and laying it out on the cloth before him gazed at it in a melancholy way.