Ah! signorina, you were a great artist.
At "Mon Repos" I soon became an habitual, and, I was fain to think, a
welcome, guest. Mrs. Carrington, who entertained a deep distrust of
the manners and excesses of Aureataland, was good enough to consider
me eminently respectable, while the signorina was graciousness itself.
I was even admitted to the select circle at the dinner party which, as
a rule, preceded her Wednesday evening reception, and I was a constant
figure round the little roulette board, which, of all forms of gaming,
was our hostess' favorite delectation. The colonel was, not to my
pleasure, an equally invariable guest, and the President himself would
often honor the party with his presence, an honor we found rather
expensive, for his luck at all games of skill or chance was
extraordinary.
"I have always trusted Fortune," he would say, "and to me she is not
fickle."
"Who would be fickle if your Excellency were pleased to trust her?"
the signorina would respond, with a glance of almost fond admiration.
This sort of thing did not please McGregor. He made no concealment
of the fact that he claimed the foremost place among the signorina's
admirers, utterly declining to make way even for the President.
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