The Cardinal's Snuff Box

"The leopard?" said Marietta, at a loss.

"If the Devil may quote Scripture for his purpose, why may n't

I?" Peter demanded. "At all events, the Duchessa di

Santangiolo is a very beautiful woman."

The Signorino has seen her?" Marietta asked.

"I have grounds for believing so. An apparition--a phantom of

delight--appeared on the opposite bank of the tumultuous Aco,

and announced herself as my landlady. Of course, she may have

been an impostor--but she made no attempt to get the rent. A

tall woman, in white, with hair, and a figure, and a voice like

cooling streams, and an eye that can speak volumes with a

look."

Marietta nodded recognition.

"That would be the Duchessa."

"She's a very beautiful duchessa," reiterated Peter.

Marietta was Italian. So, Italian--wise, she answered, "We are

all as God makes us."

"For years I have thought her the most beautiful woman in

Europe," Peter averred.

Marietta opened her eyes wide.

"For years? The Signorino knows her? The Signorino has seen

her before?"

A phrase came back to him from a novel he had been reading that

afternoon in the train. He adapted it to the occasion.

"I rather think she is my long-lost brother."

"Brother--?" faltered Marietta.

"Well, certainly not sister," said Peter, with determination.

"You have my permission to take away the coffee things."