As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. “You appear,” she said, without any sign of anger in her tone, and with unruffled composure, “to be a very impertinent person. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. ‘I know just what he was doing.
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