t the minestra
hot for your supper; come in, come in. And, little things, little dainty
bits!--do you live in Zotti's house for nothing? Sweetest delicacies that
make the tongue run a stream!--just notions of a taste--the palate smacks
and forgets; the soul seizes and remembers!'

'Oh, such seductions!' Vittoria exclaimed.

'It is,' Zotti pursued his idea, with fingers picturesquely twirling in a
spider-like distension; 'it is like the damned, and they have but a crumb
of a chance of Paradise, and down swoops St. Peter and has them in the
gates fast! You are worthy of all that a man can do for you, signorina.
Let him study, let him work, let him invent,--you are worthy of all.'

'I hope I am not too hungry to discriminate! Zotti I see Monte Rosa.'

'Signorina, you are pleased to say so when you are famishing. It is
because--' the enthusiastic confectioner looked deep and oblique, as one
who combined a remarkable subtlety of insight with profound reflection;
'it is because the lighter you get the higher you mount; up like an eagle
of the peaks! But we'll give that hungry fellow a fall. A dish of hot
minestra shoots him dead. Then, a tart of pistachios and chocolate and
cream--and my head to him who shall reveal to me the flavouring!'

'When I wake in the morning, I shall have lived a month or two in Arabia,
Zotti. Tell me no more; I will come in,' said Vittoria.

'Then, signorina, a little crisp filbert--biscuit--a composition! You
crack it, and a surprise! And then, and then my dish; Zotti's dish, that
is not yet christened. Signorina, let Italy rise first; the great
inventor of the dish winked and nodded temperately. 'Let her rise. A
battle or a treaty will do. I have two or three original conceptions,
compositions, that only wait for some brilliant feat of arms, or a
diplomatic triumph, and I send them forth baptized.'

Vittoria threw large eyes upon Ammiani, and set the underlids humorously
quivering. She kissed her fingers: 'Addio; a rivederla.' He bowed
formally: he was startled to find the golden thread of their
companionship cut with such cruel abruptness. But it was cut; the door
had closed on her. The moment it had closed she passed into his
imagination. By what charm had she allayed the fever of his anxiety? Her
naturalness had perforce given him assurance that peace must surround one
in whom it shone so steadily, and smiling at the thought of Zotti's
repast and her twinkle of subdued humour, he walked a