'Here is some lemon jelly, Tony.

I couldn't remember whether one takes lemon jelly to prisoners or invalids--I've never known any prisoners before, you see.

But anyway, I hope you'll like it; Elizabetta made it.' He bowed stiffly.

'I beg of you to convey my thanks to Elizabetta.' 'Tony!' She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and glanced apprehensively over her shoulder to see if the jailor were listening.

'If by any chance they _should_ identify you as that deserter, just get word to me and I will have Elizabetta bake you a veal pasty with a rope ladder and a file inside.