Miss Hazel and the Englishwoman were ambling on ahead in as matter-of-fact a fashion as if that were their usual mode of travel.

Their donkeys were of a sedater turn of mind than Fidilini--a fact for which Tony offered thanks.
They were by this time well over the worst part of the mountain and the brief Italian twilight was already fading.

Tony, with a sharp eye on the path ahead and a ready hand for the bridle, was attending strictly to the duties of a well-trained donkey-man.

It was Constance again who opened the conversation.
"Ah, Tony ?" "_Si_, signorina ?" "Did you ever read any Angleesh books--or do you do most of your reading in Magyar ?" "I haf read one, two, Angleesh books." "Did you ever read--er--'The Lightning Conductor' for example ?" "No, signorina; I haf never read heem." "I think it would interest you.

It's about a man who pretends he's a chauffeur in order to--to-- There are any number of books with the same motive; 'She Stoops to Conquer,' 'Two Gentlemen of Verona,' 'Lalla Rookh,' 'Monsieur Beaucaire'-- Oh, dozens of them! It's an old plot; it doesn't require the slightest originality to think of it." "_Si_, signorina?
Sank you." Tony's tone was exactly like Gustavo's when he has failed to get the point, but feels that a comment is necessary.
Constance laughed and allowed a silence to follow, while Tony redirected his attention to Fidilini's movements.