The girl’s companion returned the salute with a slight expression of annoyance, perhaps at being recognized, but the girl took no notice, and did not acknowledge him.
The man uttered some words in the girl’s ear, and then hurried her on more quickly, at the same time glancing furtively around. It was quite plain that he had no wish to be seen there, hence my curiosity became increased.
Every moment I, however, feared that he might realize I was following them; but I did not mean that they should escape me.
In the Piazza della Signorina they halted opposite that great old prison-like building, the Palazzo Vecchio, where several people were awaiting an omnibus, and as they stood there the girl, who bore such a striking resemblance to the dead niece of the millionaire, stared straight before her, taking no notice of anything about her, a strange, statuesque, pathetic figure, inert and entirely guided by the ferret-eyed man at her side.
I was compelled to draw back and watch them from a distance, hoping that I might be successful in following them to their destination. It certainly was strange that the girl who was so much like Gabrielle Engledue should be there in Florence, within a mile or two of De Gex’s villa!
As I watched, yet another person—a well-dressed woman of about forty—recognizing the girl’s companion, smiled as she passed, while he, on his part, raised his hat. The woman who had passed struck me as being either English or American, for there are many English-speaking residents in Florence. For a second I debated within myself, and then a moment later I followed her until she turned a corner in the Via di Porta Rossa. Then I hurried, and overtaking her politely raised my hat.
“I trust you will pardon me, Madame,” I exclaimed in English, as she started and looked at me askance. “I presume you are either English or American?”
“I am American,” she replied with a pronounced drawl.
“Please forgive my inquisitiveness, but I seek your aid in a little matter which is of greatest consequence to me,” I went on. “A moment ago, as you crossed the Piazza, you encountered an Italian gentleman and a girl. Could you tell me the gentleman’s name?”
“What, the person I bowed to a moment ago?” she exclaimed. “Oh! that’s Doctor Moroni.”