"Only the signal that the cortege has started," said Don Camillo.
"They'll be some minutes still."

"Santo Dio!" cried Roma. "What a sight! It dazzles me; it makes me
dizzy!"

Her face beamed, her eyes danced, and she was all aglow from head to
foot. The American Ambassador stood behind her, and, as permitted by his
greater age, he tossed back the shuttlecock of her playful talk with
chaff and laughter.

"How patient the people are! See the little groups on camp-stools
munching biscuits and reading the journals. 'La Vera Roma!'" (mimicking
the cry of the newspaper sellers). "Look at that pretty girl--the fair
one with the young man in the Homburg hat! She has climbed up the
obelisk, and is inviting him to sit on an inch and a half of corbel
beside her."

"Ah, those who love take up little room!"

"Don't they? What a lovely world it is! I'll tell you what this makes me
think about--a wedding! Glorious morning, beautiful sunshine, flowers,
wreaths, bridesmaids ready; coachman all a posy, only waiting for the
bride!"

"A wedding is what you women are always dreaming about--you begin
dreaming about it in your cradles--it's in a woman's bones, I do
believe," said the American.

"Must be the ones she got from Adam, then," said Roma.

Meantime the Baron was still parading the hearthrug inside and listening
to the warnings of his Minister of War.

"You are resolved to arrest the man?"

"If he gives us an opportunity--yes."

"You do not forget that he is a Deputy?"

"It is because I remember it that my resolution is fixed. In Parliament
he is a privileged person; let him make half as much disorder outside
and you shall see where he will be."

"Anarchists!" said Roma. "That group below the balcony? Is David Rossi
among them? Yes? Which of them? Which? Which? Which? The tall man in the
black hat with his back to us? Oh! why doesn't he turn his face? Should
I shout?"

"Roma!" from the little Princess.

"I know; I'll faint, and you'll catch me, and the Princess will cry
'Madonna mia!' and then he'll turn round and look up."

"My child!"

"He'll see through you, though, and then where will you be?"

"See through me, indeed!" and she laughed the laugh a man loves to hear,
half-raillery, half-caress.

"Donna Roma Volonna, daughter of a line of princes, making love to a
nameless nobody!"

"Shows what a heavenly character she is, then! See how good I am at
throwing bouquets at myself?"

"Well, what is lov