flow of language!"

The Duchessa laughed again.

"Oh, these Lombard peasant women. They are untiring
chatterers."

"I 'm not sure," Peter felt himself in justice bound to
confess, "that Marietta is n't equally untiring as a listener.
In fact, there's only one respect in which she has disappointed
me."

"Oh--?" said the Duchessa. And her raised eyebrows demanded
particulars.

"She swears she does n't wear a dagger in her garter--has never
heard of such a practice," Peter explained. "And now," he
whispered to his soul, "we 'll see whether our landlady is up
in modern literature."

Still again the Duchessa laughed. And, apparently, she was up
in modern literature. At any rate--

"Those are Lombard country-girls along the coast," she reminded
him. "We are peaceful inland folk, miles from the sea. But
you had best be on your guard, none the less." She shook her
head, in warning. "Through all this country-side that old
Marietta is reputed to be a witch."

"If she's a witch," said Peter, undismayed, "her usefulness