"The Signore is perhaps related to our young Conte?" he suggested.
"And yet that can scarcely be, for you are Inglese--"

"Americano."

"Indeed?"

"Martel and I are close friends, however. We met in Paris. We are
almost like brothers."

"Truly! I have heard that he spends much time studying to be a great
painter. It is very strange, but many of our rich people leave Sicily
to reside elsewhere. As for me, I cannot understand it."

"Martel left when his father was killed. He says this country is
behind the times, and he prefers to be out in the world where there is
life and where things progress."

But the priest showed by a blank stare that he did not begin to grasp
the meaning of this statement. He shook his head. "He was always a
wild lad. Now as to the Signorina Ginini, who is to be his beautiful
Contessa, she loves Sicily. She has spent most of her life here among
us."

With a flash of interest Blake inquired: "What is she like? Martel has
spoken of her a great many times, but one can't place much dependence
on a lover's description."

"Bellissima!" the priest sighed, and rolled his eyes eloquently. "You