she had tumbled into the canal had she gone so headover
-heels--both of them. Nor did Luigi pull them
out. He helped in the drowning, really.

He was talking to himself when he came back--a
soft light in his eyes, a smile lingering around the
corners of his up-turned, grizzled mustache.

"It is good to be young, Signore, is it not?" was
all he said, and at once began bundling up my
traps.

Before the week was out,--nay, before the setting of
two suns--every gossip along the Riva--and they
about covered the population--had become convinced
that Loretta was lost to the Quarter. Unless a wedding
ring was to end it all Vittorio would never be
so bold in his attentions to Loretta, as to walk home
with her nights and wait for her mornings.

Luigi shook his head, but he did not help the gossips
solve the problem. He had had trouble enough
already with Vittorio's father.

"A common wench from the yards, I hear,
Luigi!" he had blazed out--"and you, I understand,
brought them together--you,--who have been my
friend for--"

"Stop, Borodini! Not another word! You are