"I wasn' complaining," said the woman; "I was just remarking. How's Maria?"
"She's nicely, thank you."
"And the children?"
"Brave."
"I've put up sixpennyworth of nicey in four packets--that's one apiece--and I've written the name on each, for you to take home to 'em."
She fumbled in her reticule and produced the packets. The peppermint-drops and brandy-balls were wrapped in clean white paper, and the names written in a thin Italian hand. John thanked her and stowed them in his trousers pockets.
"You'll give my love to Maria? I take it very kindly her letting you come for me like this."
"Oh, as for that--" began John, and broke off; "I don't call to mind that ever I saw a more handsome morning for the time o' year."
They had made this expedition together more than a score of times, and always found the same difficulty in conversing. The boat moved easily past the town, the jetties above it, and the vessels that lay off them
