, in an outburst of emotion.

"You have your human weaknesses, after all," John laughed. "Well, I
stole a pocketful of marchpane."

Annunziata drew away again, her little white forehead furrowed.
"Stole?" she repeated, reluctant to believe.

"Yes," said he, brazenly, nodding his head.

"Oh, that was very wrong," said Annunziata, sadly shaking hers.

"No," said he. "Because, in the first place, it's a matter of proverbial
wisdom that stolen marchpane's sweetest. And, in the next place, I stole
it quite openly, under the eye of the person it belonged to, and she
made no effort to defend her property. Seeing which, I even went so far
as to explain to her _why_ I was stealing it. 'There's a young limb o'
mischief with a sweet tooth at Sant' Alessina,' I explained, 'who
regularly levies blackmail upon me. I'm stealing this for her.' And then
the lady I was stealing from told me I might steal as much as ever I
thought good."

"Oh-h-h," said Annunziata, a long-drawn _Oh_ of relief. "Then you didn't
steal it--she _gave_ it to you."

"Well," said John, "if casuistry like that can ease your conscience--if
you feel that you can conscientiously receive it--" And he allowed his
inflection to complete the sentence.

"Give it to me," said Annunziata, holding out her hands, and dancing up
and down in glee and in impatience.

"Nenni-da," said John. "Not till after dinner. I'm not going to be a
party to the spoiling of a fair, young, healthy appetite."

Pain wrote itself upon Annunziata's brow. "Oh," she grieved, "must I
wait till after dinner?"

"Yes," said John.

For a breathing-space she struggled. "Would it be bad of me," she asked,
"if I begged for just a _little_ now?"

"Yes," said John, "bad and bootless. You'd find me as unyielding as
adamant."

"Ah, well," sighed Annunziata, a deep and tremulous sigh. "Then I will
wait."

And, like a true philosopher, she proceeded to occupy her mind with a
fresh interest. She looked round the room, she looked out of the window.
"Why do y

My Friend Prospero

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