in the _Via Venti
Settembre_. I like restaurants, you know. Old Sam Johnson wasn't so far
out when he voted for a tavern. That's one thing this country can't
either import or invent--a tavern. They have the same name; every public
house is called a cafe; but what are they? Simply _pubs_.

"We were coming up the _Via Venti Settembre_ again to the _Verdi_, under
those arches, when I saw my brother. He was standing by a little table
set out by the kerb where an old woman was selling lottery-tickets. It
used to be as much to the Italians as horse-racing is with English
people. The evening papers had the winning numbers in the stop-press
column. I saw my brother put down a bill, and the old woman gave him a
bunch of tickets. And then he looked up and saw us.

"I ran right into trouble, you know, this time. Somehow or other, I'd
forgotten Rosa. I didn't simply not try to avoid him, I waited for him
to come up. It seemed only the right and proper thing. He came up,
lifting his cap. He'd bought a suit of clothes and a pair of those
long-toed foreign boots, but he still had the old cap I'd given him.
Those clothes fitted him well, I remember, but he was a well-made man
and easy to fit. The coat had a waist to it, and he was a fine figure of
a man as he came up.

"I got a sort of panic at the moment he spoke. 'I'll see you to-morrow.
I'll see you to-morrow,' I said, and tried to draw Rosa away. She looked
at me in surprise. 'Who is it?' she asked me in Italian. 'Never mind,' I
said. 'Come away.' 'I'll see you to-morrow.'

"'Why, Charley!' he says. 'You aren't going away without introducing me,
surely.'

"I was in a cleft stick. All of a sudden the memory of what he had done
with Gladys had rushed over me. I pulled Rosa away. 'To-morrow,' I kept
saying to Frank. 'See you to-morrow.' He didn't understand, apparently;
kept up with us, his lottery tickets in his hand, trying to look into
Rosa's face, and she hanging back looking at him. In this way we came up
to the _Verdi_ doors, and I started to go in.

"Women are obstinate sometimes. Rosa kept looking at him as he walked
beside her, and before we were inside the vestibule he had explained
that it was strange I wouldn't introduce him, seeing we were brothers.
She looked at me. I couldn't deny he was my brother. All I could do was
to say, 'Go away, Frank, go away!' But he didn't go away. He stood
beside us in the crowd in the vestibule looking down at us, laughing,
and talkin