“Pooh,” said Caderousse; “it is so windy that your hat can easily appear to have blown off.”
“Come, come; enough of this,” said Cavalcanti.
“What are you waiting for?” said Caderousse. “I hope I am not the cause.”
“Hush,” said Andrea. They passed the barrier without accident. At the first cross street Andrea stopped his horse, and Caderousse leaped out.
“Well!” said Andrea—“my servant’s coat and my hat?”
“Ah,” said Caderousse, “you would not like me to risk taking cold?”
“But what am I to do?”
“You? Oh, you are young while I am beginning to get old. Au revoir, Benedetto;” and running into a court, he disappeared.
“Alas,” said Andrea, sighing, “one cannot be completely happy in this world!”