hat instead of a copper helmet. After this Loretta
became part of my establishment, especially at luncheon
time, Luigi hunting her up and bringing her
aboard in his arms, she clinging to his grizzled, sunburned
neck. Often she would spend the rest of the
day watching me paint.

All I knew of her antecedents and life outside
of these visits was what Luigi told me. She was born,
he said, in the shipyards, and at the moment lived
in the top of the rookery nearest the bridge. She had
an only sister, who was ten years older; the mother
was the wife of a crab fisherman who had died some
years before; the two children and mother were
cared for by a brother crab fisherman. His son
Francesco, if report were true, was to marry the
sister when she turned fifteen, Francesco being four
years older. This last reference to Francesco came
with a shake of the head and a certain expression in
Luigi's eyes which told me at once that his opinion
of the prospective groom was not for publication--
a way he has when he dislikes somebody and is too
polite to express it.

"Fishes for crabs, like his father?" I asked.

"Yes, crabs and young girls," he answered with
a frown. "A poor lot, these crab catchers, Signore.
Was it the charcoal or a brush you wanted?"