As Mae grew reckless her eyes grew bright. There were few passers-by who
were not attracted by the flash of those eyes. The sailor lads, as they
trundled past in their ship on wheels, left the barrels of lime from
which they had been pelting the pleasure-seekers to throw whole
handfuls of flowers up to the Jesu e Maria balcony; a set of hale young
Englishmen picked out their prettiest bonbons for the same purpose;
and one elderly, pompous man, who drove unmasked and with staring opera
glasses up and down the Corso, quite showered her with bouquets, which
he threw so poorly, and with such a shaky old hand, that the street
gamins caught them all except such as he craftily flung so that they
might assuredly tumble back to the carriage again. And Mae, though she
had felt the pleased gaze of a good many eyes before, had never quite
put its meaning plainly to herself. She was apt, on such occasions, to
feel high-spirited, excited, joyous, but now she realized well that she
was being admired, and she led on for victory ardently.
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