46/61 Now Mr.Manisty--oh! I like Mr.Manisty very well!--but he sees only the ugly gases and the tumult of the cauldron. He has no idea--' 'Oh! Manisty,' said the young Count, flinging away his cigarette; 'he is a _poseur_ of course. His Italian friends don't mind. He has his English fish to fry. _Sans cela_--!' He bent forward, staring at Lucy in a boyish absent-mindedness which was no discourtesy, while his hat slipped further down the back of his curly head. |