I beg you to understand
that he has never said a word to me that I mightn't decently listen to.
He may be a little cracked, but he's one of the blessed saints."
"Eh!" cried the man, "the blessed saints were all a little cracked!"
Serafina, I fancied, left part of her story untold; but she told enough
of it to make poor Theobald's own statement seem intensely pathetic in
its exalted simplicity. "It's a strange fortune, certainly," she went
on, "to have such a friend as this dear man--a friend who is less than a
lover and more than a friend." I glanced at her companion, who preserved
an impenetrable smile, twisted the end of his moustache, and disposed of
a copious mouthful. Was _he_ less than a lover? "But what will you
have?" Serafina pursued. "In this hard world one must not ask too many
questions; one must take what comes and keep what one gets. I have kept
my good friend for twenty years, and I do hope that, at this time of day,
signore, you have not come to turn him against me!"
I assured her that I had no such design, and that I should vastly regret
disturbing Mr.
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