"Perhaps he--he misunderstood what you meant; I mean, that you intended
the money for any special purpose."
"That's exactly what he'll say," remarked Aunt Maria with a triumphant
nod.
"But if it's true----"
"I shan't know whether it's true or not. That's where Sandro's cleverness
comes in."
It was hard to realise that the old lady talked of the man whom her
hearer had seen on Duty Hill.
"I'm sure you don't do him justice." The plea sounded weak even to its
utterer.
"To an ounce," said Aunt Maria emphatically. May laughed. "I lived with
him for twelve years, and I'm not a fool any more than he is. If you ask
him about me, you'll get the truth, and you get it when you ask me about
him. After twelve years I ought to know."
"You've read his speech?" May asked. "Isn't it magnificent, parts of it
anyhow?"
"Very few men have a brain like Sandro's."
"There I agree with you, Miss Quisante." But May's face was troubled as
she added, a moment later, "He ought to give you back your money,
though."
"He will, if he makes a lot out of it, and he'll give me a nice present
too.
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