Constance sat up alertly and watched the people crowding past.

Across from the inn an itinerant show had established itself on a rudely improvised stage, with two flaring torches which threw their light half across the piazza, and turned the spray of the fountain into an iridescent shower.

The gaiety of the scene was contagious.

Constance rose insistently.
'Come, Dad; let's go over and see what they're doing.' 'No, thank you, my dear.

I prefer my chair.' 'Oh, Dad, you're so phlegmatic!' 'But I thought you were tired.' 'I'm not any more; I want to see the play .-- You come then, Tony.' Tony rose with an elaborate sigh.
'As you please, signorina,' he murmured obediently.