Neither of them spoke as they descended the stairs of the hotel, and
went out through the garden to the gate. When they were in the square
beyond Ruggiero stopped. Sebastiano stood still also and looked at him.
"Does your heart ever jump and turn somersaults and get into your mouth,
when you look at a woman, Bastianello?" he asked.
"No. Does yours?"
"Yes. Just now."
"I saw her, too," answered Sebastiano. "It is true that she is very
fresh and pretty, and uncommonly clean. Eh--the devil! If you like her,
ask for her. The maid of a Marchesa is sure to have money and to be a
respectable girl."
Ruggiero was silent for a moment and looked at his brother with an odd
expression, as though he were going to say something. Unfortunately for
him, for Sebastiano, for the maid, for Beatrice, and for the count of
San Miniato, too, he said nothing. Instead, he produced half a cigar
from his cap, and two sulphur matches, and incontinently began to smoke.
"It is lucky that both boats are engaged on the same day," observed
Sebastiano. "The Greek will be pleased. He will play all the numbers at
the lottery.
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