'Well?' Sperelli asked, goaded on by a sort of madness. 'Are matters
going on favourably?'
He knew he might adopt this tone with a man of this sort.
Galeazzo turned and looked at him half surprised, half suspicious. He
certainly did not expect such a question from him, and still less the
airy and perfectly calm tone in which the question was uttered.
'Ah, the time that siege of mine has lasted!' groaned the bearded
prince. 'Ages simply--I have tried every kind of manoeuvre but always
without success. I always came too late, some other fellow had always
been before me in storming the citadel. But I never lost heart. I was
convinced that sooner or later my turn would come. _Attendre pour
atteindre._ And sure enough----'
'Well?'
'Lady Heathfield is kinder to me than the Duchess of Scerni. I shall
have, I hope, the very enviable honour of being set down after you on
the list.'
He burst into a rather coarse laugh, showing his splendid teeth.
'I fancy that my doughty deeds in India, which Giulio Musellaro spread
abroad, have added to my beard several heroic strands of irresistible
virtue.'
'Ah, just in these days that beard of yours should fairly quiver with
memories.'
'What memories?'
'Memories of a Bacchic nature.'
'I don't understand.'
'What, have you forgotten the famous May Bazaar of 1884?'
'Well, upon my word, now that you remind me of it, the third anniversary
does fall on one of these next days.
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