“Where was this window with white hangings?” asked the countess.
“At the Rospoli Palace.”
“The count had three windows at the Rospoli Palace?”
“Yes. Did you pass through the Corso?”
“Yes.”
“Well, did you notice two windows hung with yellow damask, and one with white damask with a red cross? Those were the count’s windows.”
“Why, he must be a nabob. Do you know what those three windows were worth?”
“Two or three hundred Roman crowns?”
“Two or three thousand.”
“The deuce!”
“Does his island produce him such a revenue?”
“It does not bring him a bajocco.”
“Then why did he purchase it?”
“For a whim.”
“He is an original, then?”
“In reality,” observed Albert, “he seemed to me somewhat eccentric; were he at Paris, and a frequenter of the theatres, I should say he was a poor devil literally mad. This morning he made two or three exits worthy of Didier or Anthony.”