“You have an Italian name, too,” said Helge eagerly.
“No. I was named after my grandmother, but the Italian family I lived with last year could not pronounce my ugly name, and since then I have stuck to the Italian version of it.”
“Francesca,” said Ahlin, in a whisper.
“I shall always think of you as Francesca—signorina Francesca.”
“Why not Miss Jahrman? Unfortunately we cannot speak Italian together, since you don’t know the language.” She turned to the others. “Jenny, Gunnar—I am going to buy the corals tomorrow.”
“Yes; I think I heard you say so,” said Heggen.
“And I will not pay more than ninety.”
“You always have to bargain here,” said Helge, as one who knows. “I went into a shop this afternoon near St. Pietro and bought this thing for my mother. They asked seven lire, but I got it for four. Don’t you think it was cheap?” He put the thing on the table.
Francesca looked at it with contempt. “It costs two fifty in the market. I took a pair of them to each of the maids at home last year.”
“The man said it was old,” retorted Helge.