I was performing both.

Am I to be abused for that ?" He looked at me very searchingly, seeking in my countenance--as I now know--some trace of irony or guile.

Finding none, he turned to my mother.

He was very solemn.
"Madonna," he said quietly, "I think that Agostino is nearer to being a saint than either you or I will ever get." She looked at him, first in surprise, then very sadly.

Slowly she shook her head.