Nevertheless, Rowland reflected, there are more profitless things than mere sound and gesture, in a consummate Italian.
And the Cavaliere, too, had soul enough left to desire to speak a few words on his own account, and call Rowland's attention to the fact that he was not, after all, a hired cicerone, but an ancient Roman gentleman.
Rowland felt sorry for him; he hardly knew why.

He assured him in a friendly fashion that he must come again; that his house was always at his service.

The Cavaliere bowed down to the ground.

"You do me too much honor," he murmured.

"If you will allow me--it is not impossible!" Mrs.Light, meanwhile, had prepared to depart.