Stenson, whom I had brought to look after Carlotta's luggage,
came up and touched his hat.
"Train just signalled, sir."
Pasquale put out his hand after another glance at his watch.
"I am sorry I cannot wait to greet the fair one. I'll drop in
soon and pay my respects. I am only just back in London, you
know. _A rivederci._"
He waved me farewell and hurried off. The arrival of the train,
the exuberance of Carlotta, the joy of having her sidle up
against me once more in the cab while she poured out her story,
and the subsequent gaiety of the evening banished Pasquale from
my mind. But it is odd that I should have met him at Paddington.
We parted on the landing to dress for dinner. A moment
afterwards there was a beating at my door. I opened it to
behold Carlotta, in a glow of wondering delight, brandishing a
silver-backed brush in one hand and the hand-mirror in the other.
"Oh, my darling Seer Marcous! For me? All that for me?"
"No. It is for Antoinette," said I.
"Oh-h!"
She laughed and pulled me by the arm into her room and shut the
door.
Pages:
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256