Continue." "Oh! there are a thousand ways." Carlo controlled himself with a sharp screw of all his muscles.

"I simply wish to save the signorina from an annoyance." "Very mildly put," Agostino murmured assentingly.
"In our Journal," said Carlo, holding out the palm of one hand to dot the forefinger of the other across it, by way of personal illustration--"in our Journal we might arrange for certain letters to recur at distinct intervals in Roman capitals, which might spell out, 'This Night AT Twelve,' or 'At Once.'" "Quite as ingenious, but on the present occasion erring on the side of intricacy.

Aha! you want to increase the sale of your Journal, do you, my boy?
The rogue!" With which, and a light slap over Carlo's shoulder, Agostino left him.
The aspect of his own futile proposals stared the young man in the face too forcibly for him to nurse the spark of resentment which was struck out in the turmoil of his bosom.

He veered, as if to follow Agostino, and remained midway, his chest heaving, and his eyelids shut.
"Signor Carlo, I have not thanked you." He heard Vittoria speak.

"I know that a woman should never attempt to do men's work.