Gustavo hung upon her expression in an agony of apprehension; one would have thought it a matter for public mourning if the lemonade were not mixed exactly right.

But apparently it was right--she nodded and smiled--and Gustavo's expression assumed relief.

Constance broke open a pine nut cake and settled herself for conversation.
'Haven't you any guests, Gustavo ?' Her eyes glanced over the empty courtyard.

'I am afraid the hotel is not having a very prosperous season.' '_Grazie_, signorina.

Zer never are many in summer; it is ze dead time, but still zay come and zay go.