"How aggravating it is!" she cried. "In England, where there's no sun, there's plenty of shade—and here, where the sun is like a mustard-plaster on one's back, the leaves are all set edgewise on purpose that they shan't cast any shadow!"
Angiolino made no answer to this intelligent remark.
"He is going to sleep again!" cried Goneril, stopping her lunch in despair. "He is going to sleep, and there are no end of things I want to know. Angiolino!"
"Sissignora," murmured the boy.
"Tell me about Signor Graziano."
"He is our padrone; he is never here."
"But he is coming to-day. Wake up, Angiolino. I tell you he is on the way!"
"Between life and death there are so many combinations," drawled the boy, with Tuscan incredulity and sententiousness.
"Ah!" cried the girl, with a little shiver of impatience. "Is he young?"
"Chè!"