"It is cooler here. To your business, friend Calabressa."
The moment Calabressa recognized this tall, military-looking man, with the closely cropped bullet-head and long silver-white mustache, he whipped off his cap, and said, anxiously,
"A thousand pardons, Excellency! a thousand pardons! Do I interrupt? May not I see Fossati?"
"It is unnecessary. There is much business to-night. One must breathe the air sometimes."
Calabressa for once had completely lost his sang-froid. He could not speak for stammering.
"I assure you, your Excellency, it is death to me to think that I interrupt you."
"But why did you come, then, my friend? To the point."
"Zaccatelli," the other managed to get out.
"Well?"
"There was a proposal. Some days ago I saw Granaglia."