He had a tendency toward being stout and felt the heat.

The girl, meanwhile, crossed the court and jangled the bell; she waited two--three--minutes, then she pulled the rope again.
"Gustavo! Oh, Gustavo!" The bell might have been rung by any-one--the fisherman, the omnibus-driver, Suor Celestina from the convent asking her everlasting alms--and Gustavo took his time.

But the voice was unmistakable; he waited only to throw a clean napkin over his arm before hurrying to answer.
"_Buon giorno_, signorina! Good morning, signore.

It is beautiful wea-thir, but warm.

_Gia_, it is warm." He bowed and smiled and rubbed his hands together.