'Oh, don't trouble. I'll get off this afternoon; they've sent for some one to identify me, and if he doesn't succeed, I don't see how they can hold me. In the meantime, I'm comfortable enough.'
Mr. Wilder's eye wandered about the room. 'H'm, it isn't bad for a jail! Got everything you need--tobacco, papers?' What's this, New York _Sun_ only ten days old?' He picked it up and plunged into the headlines.
Constance turned from the window and glanced casually at Tony.
'I was detained; I hope to get off to-morrow.'
'Oh, before I forget it.' She removed the basket from her arm and set it on the table. 'Here is some lemon jelly, Tony. I couldn't remember whether one takes lemon jelly to prisoners or invalids--I've never known any prisoners before, you see. But anyway, I hope you'll like it; Elizabetta made it.'
He bowed stiffly. 'I beg of you to convey my thanks to Elizabetta.'
'Tony!' She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and glanced apprehensively over her shoulder to see if the jailor were listening. 'If by any chance they _should_ identify you as that deserter, just get word to me and I will have Elizabetta bake you a veal pasty with a rope ladder and a file inside. I would have had her bake it this morning, only Wednesday is ironing-day at the villa, and she was so awfully busy----'
'This is your innings,' Tony rejoined somewhat sulkily. 'I hope you'll get all the entertainment you can out of the situation.'
'Thank you, Tony, that's kind. Of course,' she added with a plaintive note in her voice, 'this must be tiresome for you; but it is a pleasant surprise for me. I was feeling very sad last night, Tony, at the thought that you were going to Austria and that I should never, never see you any more.'
'I wish I knew whether there's any truth in that statement or not!'
'Any truth! I realize well, that I might search the whole world over and never find another donkey-man who sings such beautiful tenor, who wears such lovely sashes and such becoming earrings. Why, Tony'--she took a step nearer and her face assumed a look of consternation--'you've lost your earrings!'
He turned his back and walked to the window, where he stood moodily staring at the market. Constance watched his squared shoulders dubiously out of the corner of her eye; then she glanced momentarily into the hall where the jailor was visible his face flattened against the bars of an open window; and from him to her father, still deep in the columns of his paper, oblivious to both time and place. She crossed to Tony and stood at his side, peering down at the scene below.