You see--[he pauses, somewhat embarrassed]--you see,
I've come a mighty long ways to look after her, and she, prob'ly--that
is, _they'll_ prob'ly want me to have supper with _them_.
[The latter part of this speech is spoken rather breathlessly, though
not rapidly, and almost tremulously, and with a growing smile that is
like a confession.]
VASILI. Do not trouble for me. Your young people, they have a villa?
PIKE. No; they're right here in this hotel.
HORACE. I must get away!
[He says this huskily, almost in a whisper, as if to himself. His face
is tense with anxiety.]
VASILI [with a gesture of dismissal, though graciously]. Seek them. I
finish my cigarette.
PIKE. Guess I better ask.
[HORACE is crossing, meaning to get away through the grove.]
PIKE [addressing him]. Hey, there! Can you--
[HORACE, proceeding, pays no attention.]
PIKE [lifting his voice]. Excuse me, son, ain't you an American?
[More decidedly, to MARIANO.]
Waiter, tell that gentleman I'm speaking to him.
MARIANO [to HORACE]. M'sieu', that gentleman speak with you.
HORACE [agitated and angry]. What gentleman?
[MARIANO bows toward PIKE.]
PIKE [at same time genially]. I thought from your looks you must be an
American.
HORACE [turning haughtily]. Are you speaking to _me_?
PIKE [good-humoredly].
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