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Chapter 8

           Therewillbenomorepopularfeastsheldhere.”

           Mrs.Gouldwasrathersorrytothinkso.ShetookthisopportunitytomentionhowshehadjustobtainedfromSirJohnthepromisethatthehouseoccupiedbyGiorgioViolashouldnotbeinterferedwith.Shedeclaredshecouldneverunderstandwhythesurveyengineersevertalkedofdemolishingthatoldbuilding.Itwasnotinthewayoftheprojectedharbourbranchofthelineintheleast.

           ShestoppedthecarriagebeforethedoortoreassureatoncetheoldGenoese,whocameoutbare-headedandstoodbythecarriagestep.ShetalkedtohiminItalian,ofcourse,andhethankedherwithcalmdignity.AnoldGaribaldinowasgratefultoherfromthebottomofhisheartforkeepingtheroofovertheheadsofhiswifeandchildren.Hewastoooldtowanderanymore.

           “Andisitforever,signora?”heasked.

           “Foraslongasyoulike.”

           “Bene.Thentheplacemustbenamed,Itwasnotworthwhilebefore.”

           Hesmiledruggedly,witharunningtogetherofwrinklesatthecornersofhiseyes.“Ishallsetaboutthepaintingofthenameto-morrow.”

           “Andwhatisitgoingtobe,Giorgio?”

           “Albergod’ItaliaUna,”saidtheoldGaribaldino,lookingawayforamoment.“Moreinmemoryofthosewhohavedied,”headded,“thanforthecountrystolenfromussoldiersoflibertybythecraftofthataccursedPiedmonteseraceofkingsandministers.

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