THE DORATORE'S ANTIQUES 



gentilissima signorina who does me the honour to write ?~ 

 Mi piace, mi place. And Mama ?Better l~Bonissimo \ 

 Please the good God to bring her again to Rome. But 

 not this month," waving a warning finger before his nose. 

 " In April. In the primavera, Rome is as salubrious as 

 she is beautiful. Now what does Mama want ? Brackets ? 

 Angels 1~Ecco." 



He pointed to a pair of fantastic creatures that jutted out 

 like gargoyles under the ceiling. "What? Not pretty? 

 Ma I Scusi ! they are antichi bellissimithty come from 

 a castle in the Abruzzi ,- there is not their match in Rome/' 

 Snapping the candle from the imp, on whose locks it was 

 unheededly guttering, he waved it round his own head, 

 waking up unexpected companies of saints on the walls 

 and making pools of light and darkness among the golden 

 hillocks. 



"They are exactly the noble family's taste/' said the 

 doratore, replacing his cap with an air of finality. " She 

 said cinquanta /ireshe shall have them for quaranta I " 

 Recognizing that this incident was closed, Loki's aunt 

 thought she would do a deal on her own account, and 

 picking up a little antique frame, fell back on the only 

 Italian word she knew : 

 "Quanfo?" 



The doratore unexpectedly priced the frame at twenty- 

 five lire, and cheap at that, and all of a sudden the little 

 shop was filled with confusion. The would-be purchaser 

 wished to take away her prize, the doratore, misunder- 

 standing, vociferated that nothing would be broken on the 

 sea-journey / the Lancashire maid struck in with English 

 addresses for the other wares/ finally, the candle-bearer 



25 



