Then Barbarella took up Bizet's air again in a low voice--
'Tra, la la--Le papillon s'est envole--Tra, la la----'
Andrea was anxiously on the watch for a favourable moment at which to
interrupt Lord Heathfield's harangue and make his escape. But the
collector had entered upon a series of rounded periods, each intimately
connected with the other, without one break, without one pause for
breath. A single stop would have saved the persecuted listener, but it
never came, and the victim's torments grew more unbearable every minute.
'Oui! Le papillon s'est envole--Oui! Ah! ah! ah! ah!'
Andrea looked at his watch.
'Two o'clock already! Excuse me, Marquis, but I must go.'
He left the window and went over to the ladies.
'Will you excuse me, Princess, I have a consultation at two with the
veterinary surgeons at my stables?'
He took leave in a great hurry. Elena gave him the tips of her fingers,
Barbarella presented him with _fondant_, saying--'Give it to poor
Mallecho with my love.'
Ludovico offered to accompany him.
'No, no--stay where you are.'
He bowed and left--flew down the stairs like lightning and jumped into
his carriage, shouting to the coachman--
'To the Pincio--quick!'
He was filled with a frenzied longing to reach Maria Ferres' side, to
enjoy the delights which he had refused before. The rapid pace of his
horses was not quick enough for him.
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