He looked enviously at the young men. The arrival of the lobster
distracted his attention for the moment; but it was obvious that the
appearance of these women had increased the feeling of sentimentality
already generated in him by the softness and stillness of the night.

The three musicians, rendered greedy rather than inspired by the
presence of more clients, now began to pluck a lively street tune from
their instruments; and the waiter, whose mustaches seemed if possible
bigger now that night was truly come, poured the white wine into the
glasses with the air of one making a libation.

As the Marchesino ate, he frequently looked towards the party at the
neighboring table. He was evidently filled with envy of the two men
whose jewels glittered as they gesticulated with their big brown
hands. But presently their pleasure and success recalled to him
something which he had momentarily forgotten, the reason why he had
planned this expedition. He was in pursuit. The recollection cheered
him up, restored to him the strength of his manhood, put him right
with himself. The envy and the almost sickly sentimentality vanished
from him, and he broke into the usual gay conversation which seldom
failed him, either by day or night.

It was past nine before they had finished their coffee. The two
boatmen had been regaled and had drunk a bottle of wine, and the moon
was rising and making the oil lamps of the Guiseppone look pitiful.
From the table where the canzonettiste were established came peals of
laughter, which obviously upset the seven large and respectable women
who had been eating oysters, and who now sat staring heavily at the
gay revellers, while the two thin middle-aged men with bright eyes