Rossi himself seemed to be unconscious of anything hurtful. Although silent, he was calm and cheerful, and his manner was natural and polite. The wife of one of the royal aides-de-camp sat next to him, and talked constantly of the King.
Roma found herself listening to every word that was said to David Rossi, but she also heard a conversation that was going on at the other end of the table.
"Wants to be another Cola di Rienzi, doesn't he?" said Lu-lu.
"Another Christ," said Don Camillo. "He'll be asking for a crown of thorns by-and-by, and calling on the world to immolate him for the sake of humanity. Look! He's talking to the little Baroness, but he is fifteen thousand miles above the clouds at this moment."
"Where does he come from, I wonder?" said Lu-lu, and then the two hands of Don Camillo played the invisible accordion.
"Madame de Trop says his father was Master of the House to Prince Petrolium—vice-prince, you know, and brought up in the little palace," said the Princess.
"Don't believe a word of it," said Don Camillo, "and I'll wager he never supped at a decent hotel before."
"I'll ask him! Listen now! Some fun," said the Princess. "Honourable Rossi!"
"Yes, Princess," said David Rossi.
The eyes of the little Princess swept the table with a sparkling light.