"You speak Italian?" she inquired.
"Oh, not a great deal more than a smattering," he replied airily--a
truthful answer, inasmuch as a vocabulary consisting simply of _"quanty
costy"_ and _"troppo"_ cannot be seriously considered much more than a
smattering. Fortunately she made no test of his linguistic attainment,
but returned to her former subject.
"Ah, yes, all the worl' to-day know' the new class of American," she
said--"_your_ class. Many year' ago we have another class which Europe
didn' like. That was when the American was ter-ri-ble! He was the--what
is that you call?--oh, yes; he 'make himself,' you say: that is it. My
frien', he was abominable! He brag'; he talk' through the nose; yes,
and he was niggardly, rich as he was! But you, you yo'ng men of the new
generation, you are gentlemen of the idleness; you are aristocrats, with
polish an' with culture. An' yet you throw your money away--yes, you
throw it to poor Europe as if to a beggar!"
"No, no," he protested with an indulgent laugh which confessed that the
truth was really "Yes, yes.
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