This is
probably a harmless enough old chap--easy to handle--
ETHEL. I wish I knew. I shouldn't like Almeric's family to think we had
queer connections of any sort--and he might turn out to be quite
shockingly American [with genuine pathos]. I--I couldn't bear it, Hoddy.
HORACE. Then keep him out of the way. That's simple enough. None of
them, except the solicitor, need see him.
[Instantly upon this there is a tremendous though distant commotion
beyond the hotel--wild laughter and cheers, the tarantella played by
mandolins and guitars, also sung, shouts of "Bravo Americano!" and
"Yanka Dooda!" The noise continues and increases gradually.]
ETHEL [as the uproar begins]. What is that?
HORACE. Must be a mob.
[LADY CREECH, flustered and hot, enters from the hotel. She is a
haughty, cross-looking woman in the sixties.]
ETHEL [going to LADY CREECH, speaks close to her ear and loudly]. Lady
Creech--dear Lady Creech--what is the trouble?
LADY CREECH. Some horrible people coming to this hotel! They've made a
riot in the village.
[The noise becomes suddenly louder. MARIANO, immediately upon LADY
CREECH'S entrance, appears in hotel doors, makes a quick gesture toward
breakfast-table, and withdraws.]
[MICHELE, laughing, immediately enters by same doors, goes rapidly to
the breakfast-table and clears it.
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