t peculiar
notions.

"Well, he sent the third mate ashore just before tea to get the _Sera_.
'Come on, Chief,' says he, coming into my room where I was washing,
'let's go through the numbers. I'm just crazy to prove you wrong.'
'Where did you buy them?' I asked. 'Outside the _Verdi_,' he told me. We
went through them. I read out the numbers of his tickets while he
compared them with those in the paper. His highest number was some two
hundred thousand, two hundred and fifty-one, I remember. And the last
winning number in the paper was that same number of thousands, two
hundred and fifty-two. He dashed the paper on the floor. 'Darn!' he
says, 'why didn't I take one more. Think o' that, Chief!' What was the
use of thinking of it? 'I'm not surprised,' I said, 'though it is
aggravating.' Humph!

"Half way down that splendid new street, one of the finest in Europe,
the _Via Venti Settembre_, and not far from Schlitz's Restaurant, is
Bertolini's Bristol Hotel. Rosa and I were walking down past it that
night, on our way to _Acquasole_, where there was a band, when Frank
came out. A cab stood at the kerb, and he was making for it when he saw
us and bore down on us. He was dazzling. He had a big ulster and he was
in evening dress. 'Now, Charlie, my boy, this is the limit. I was coming
to see you. Come and dine with me at the _Roma_,' and he dragged us to
the cab.

"Yes, his luck was back. He'd picked up the winning number, the one the
Old Man had left. Ten thousand francs! He wasn't going to wait for the
State to shell out. He just went to the Russian Bank in the _Piazza
Campetto_ and discounted the ticket for cash. In one flash he'd won more
than I earned in a couple of years. Yes, he was going to winter in
Italy, he said. Naples, Rome, Florence, Bologna, Venice; then Paris and
London. Before I knew what I was doing I was standing outside of the
_Roma_ watching him help Rosa out of the cab. He carried things with a
rush. Nothing too good for him. This was his natural element, luxury,
excitement, whiz and snap. What a man!

"Again, I say, I don't blame Rosa. What girl wouldn't be fascinated by
such a man? I had never realized before how charming a man could be.
What had I to offer a woman to compare with him? In a few hours he had
picked up enough Italian to patter with. Rosa spoke English, it is true,
but what jokes he got out of his Italian! How he talked! There was I,
just as I am now, blue serge and rather a plain little