"That's not Signor Brunoni!" said Miss Pole decidedly; and so
audibly that I am sure he heard, for he glanced down over his
flowing beard at our party with an air of mute reproach. "Signor
Brunoni had no beard--but perhaps he'll come soon." So she lulled
herself into patience. Meanwhile, Miss Matty had reconnoitred
through her eye-glass, wiped it, and looked again. Then she turned
round, and said to me, in a kind, mild, sorrowful tone -
"You see, my dear, turbans ARE worn."
But we had no time for more conversation. The Grand Turk, as Miss
Pole chose to call him, arose and announced himself as Signor
Brunoni.
"I don't believe him!" exclaimed Miss Pole, in a defiant manner.
He looked at her again, with the same dignified upbraiding in his
countenance. "I don't!" she repeated more positively than ever.
"Signor Brunoni had not got that muffy sort of thing about his
chin, but looked like a close-shaved Christian gentleman."
Miss Pole's energetic speeches had the good effect of wakening up
Mrs Jamieson, who opened her eyes wide, in sign of the deepest
attention--a proceeding which silenced Miss Pole and encouraged the
Grand Turk to proceed, which he did in very broken English--so
broken that there was no cohesion between the parts of his
sentences; a fact which he himself perceived at last, and so left
off speaking and proceeded to action.
Pages:
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160