Mae's admiration was simply rapturous. Utterly regardless of the pretty
picture she herself made, of her vivid coloring and sparkling beauty,
she stood among her dropped flowers until the two pairs of eyes were
fixed upon her. Then she became suddenly aware of her attitude and with
quick feminine cunning endeavored to transfer her admiration to some
beautiful horses cantering by, exclaiming in Italian, that the officers
might surely understand she was thinking only of the fine animals: "O,
what wonderful horses!"
The foreign pronunciation, Eric's amusement, Mae's confusion, were not
lost upon the men. Their curiosity was piqued, their eyes and pride
gratified. They sauntered leisurely past, only to turn a corner and
quicken their steps again toward the bench where Eric and Mae were
seated. They found the brother and sister just arising, and followed
them slowly.
An Italian is quick to detect secrets. The two had not proceeded far
before one said to the other; "Eh, Luigi, we are not the only interested
party.
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