t
doesn't require the slightest originality to think of it."

"_Si_, signorina? Sank you." Tony's tone was exactly like Gustavo's when
he has failed to get the point, but feels that a comment is necessary.

Constance laughed and allowed a silence to follow, while Tony redirected
his attention to Fidilini's movements. His "Yip! Yip!" was an exact
imitation, though in a deeper guttural, of Beppo's cries before them. It
would have taken a close observer to suspect that he had not been bred to
the calling.

"You have not always been a donkey-driver?" she inquired after an
interval of amused scrutiny.

"Not always, signorina."

"What did you do in New York?"

"I play hand-organ, signorina."

Tony removed his hand from the bridle and ground "Yankee Doodle" from an
imaginary instrument.

"I make musica, signorina, wif--wif--how you say, monk, monka? His name
Vittorio Emanuele. Ver' nice monk--simpatica affezionata."

"You've never been an actor?"

"An actor? No, signorina."

"You should try it; I fancy you might have some talent in that
direction."

"_Si_, signorina. Sank you."

She let the conversation drop, and Tony, after an interval of silence,
fell to humming Santa Lucia in a very presentable baritone. The tune,
Constance noted, was true enough, but the words were far astray.

"That's a very pretty song, Tony, but you don't appear to know it."

"I no understand Italian, signorina. I just learn ze tune because
Costantina like it."

"You do everything that Costantina wishes?"

"Everysing! But if you could see her you would not wonder. She has hair
brown and gold, and her eyes, signorina, are sometimes gray and sometimes
black, and her laugh sounds like--"

"Oh, yes, I know; you told me all that before."

"When she goes out to work in ze morning, signorina, wif the sunlight
shining on her hair, and a smile on her lips, and a basket of clothes on
her head--Ah, _zen_ she is beautiful!"

"When are you going to be married?"

"I do not know, signorina. I have not asked her yet."

"Then how do you know she wishes to marry you?"

"I do not know; I just hope."

He rolled his eyes toward the moon which was rising above the mountains
on the other side of the lake, and with a deep sigh he fell back into
Santa Lucia.

Constance leaned forward and scanned his face.

"Tony! Tell me your name." There was an undertone of meaning, a note of
persuasion in her voice.

"Antonio, signorina."

She shook her