"Yes, and the countess went up and up in her bidding from two thousand
francs to four hundred thousand; but Gonzales wouldn't sell, because he
liked the view. He told us that he still lives in the _baraque_, though
he owns other houses and much land."
"Perfectly true," said Rose. "I walk up and chat with him sometimes.
He's very rich for a peasant, and shrewd, though stupid too, for he has
a horror of banks and hides his money heaven knows where. He had
thousands of francs in banknotes in a cellar among his potatoes, and
they were all eaten by rats; but he only shrugged his shoulders and said
'twas no worse than having them devoured by speculators. Oh, these
peasants of the Riviera are wonderful!"
"Vanno and I will make friends with them when we have a house up there,"
said Mary. "Maybe it will be ready next year. Who knows? Vanno says we
must come every season, if only for a few weeks, just to show ourselves
that we care for other things than the Casino. And then, how delightful
to see our friends! You, who have been so good to me, and Captain
Hannaford, if he's living in his Italian chateau----"
"Dear, he won't be there," said Rose, laying her hand on Mary's, as the
two sat together on the flowery chintz sofa.
"Why--what makes you think that?" Mary asked quickly, noticing at last
the pallor of Rose's face.
"I don't think. I know. George and I have been wondering how we were to
tell you, because you and Captain Hannaford were such good friends.
Pages:
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450