"I should like the owner too," I ventured to remark.

"The rose is prettier than the owner," she said; "and, at any rate,
one thing at a time, Mr. Martin! Do you pay your servants all their
wages in advance?"

My practice was so much the contrary that I really couldn't deny the
force of her reasoning. She held out the rose. I seized it and pressed
it close to my lips, thereby squashing it considerably.

"Dear me," said the signorina, "I wonder if I had given you the other
thing whether you would have treated it so roughly."

"I'll show you in a moment," said I.

"Thank you, no, not just now," she said, showing no alarm, for she
knew she was safe with me. Then she said abruptly:

"Are you a Constitutionalist or a Liberal, Mr. Martin?"

I must explain that, in the usual race for the former title, the
President's party had been first at the post, and the colonel's
gang (as I privately termed it) had to put up with the alternative
designation. Neither name bore any relation to facts.

"Are we going to talk politics?" said I reproachfully.

"Yes, a little; you see we got to an _impasse_ on the other topic.
Tell me."