"They won't catch you though, will they, mother?" shouted Bruno.

"That they won't! I'm deaf, praise the saints, and can't hear them."

A knock came to the door, and seizing his mace the boy ran and opened

it. An old man stood on the threshold. He was one of David Rossi's

pensioners. Ninety years of age, his children all dead, he lived with

his grandchildren, and was one of the poor human rats who stay indoors

all day and come out with a lantern at night to scour the gutters of the

city for the refuse of cigar-ends.

"Come another night, John," said Bruno.

But David Rossi would not send him away empty, and he was going off with

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the sparkling eyes of a boy, when he said: "I heard you in the piazza this morning, Excellency! Grand! Only sorry

for one thing."

"And what was that, sonny?" asked Bruno.

"What his Excellency said about Donna Roma. She gave me a half-franc

only yesterday--stopped the carriage to do it, sir."

"So that's your only reason...." began Bruno.

"Good reason, too. Good-night, John!" said David Rossi, and Joseph

closed the door.

"Oh, she has her virtues, like every other kind of spider," said Bruno.

"I'm sorry I spoke of her," said David Rossi.

"You needn't be, though. She deserved all she got. I haven't been two

years in her studio without knowing what she is."

"It was the man I was thinking of, and if I had remembered that the

woman must suffer...."

"Tut! She'll have to make her Easter confession a little earlier, that's

all."

"If she hadn't laughed when I was speaking...."

"You're on the wrong track now, sir. That wasn't Donna Roma. It was the

little Princess Bellini. She is always stretching her neck and

screeching like an old gandery goose."

Dinner was now over, and the boy called for the phonograph. David Rossi

went into the sitting-room to fetch it, and Elena went in at the same

time to light the fire. She was kneeling with her back to him, blowing

on to the wood, when she said in a trembling voice: "I'm a little sorry myself, sir, if I may say so. I can't believe what

they say about the mistress, but even if it's true we don't know her

story, do we?"

Then the phonograph was turned on, and Joseph marched to the tune of

"Swannee River" and the strains of Sousa's band.




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