The _Farfalla_ dropped her yellow wings with the air of a salute, and lighted at the foot of the water-steps under the terrace.

The girl on the parapet leaned forward eagerly.
'Did you get any mail, Giuseppe ?' she called.
'_Si_, signorina.' He scrambled up the steps and presented a copy of the London _Times_.
She received it with a shrug.

Clearly, she felt little interest in the London _Times_.

Giuseppe took himself back to his boat and commenced fussing about its fittings, dusting the seats, plumping up the cushions, with an air of absorption which deceived nobody.

The signorina watched him a moment with amused comprehension, then she called peremptorily-- 'Giuseppe, you know you must spade the garden border.' Poor Giuseppe, in spite of his nautical costume, was man of all work.