Person or Persons Unknown Read Online Free

again?”
    She took the shilling greedily and tucked it in her bodice between her dainty bubs. Ah, how I envied that shilling!
    “For a shilling we talk anytime — no, I make a joke, eh? Yes, we talk. I like you. And next time you come with me, yes?”
    “Goodbye.”
    “Goodbye, and thank you. Grazia! Molte grazieT’
    Difficult as it was to pull myself from her, I hastened away, joining the multitude on Drury Lane, swimming against the tide of humanity, pressing on to Hart Street, which would lead me straight into Bloomsbury Square. It was not far. I had not dallied long. And I was sure I had made up for some minutes lost by my great hurry to get there.
    When, however, I reached my destination, I saw that I had dallied too long, or perhaps not hurried quite fast enough, for what should I see but a coach-and-four pulling away from his door, unmistakably that of William Murray, the Earl of Mansfield, the Lord Chief Justice. I watched it go, standing there on the walk, as if wishing might bring it back. At last I saw it disappear down Great Russell Street, and I turned to the door and banged upon it with the heavy, hand-shaped knocker. It was near a minute before the butler arrived in full livery. As I had grown taller he seemed a less imposing figure. Nevertheless, his chill manner would have turned back a regiment of foot.
    “I have a letter to the Lord Chief Justice from Sir John Fielding,” said I, brandishing it as a constable might wave a warrant.
    “He has just departed.” The butler put out his hand to accept the letter.
    “I have instructions to put it in his hands direct and wait for a reply.”
    “He may not be back for quite some time.”
    “Nevertheless.”
    “So be it then.” He began to ease the door shut.
    “Uh… may I wait inside?” I asked, damning him for a black-hearted villain, for making me beg. “Perhaps on that bench in the vestibule?”
    He turned and looked at it, then looked back at me — looked very closely, in fact, scrutinizing me from top to bottom.
    Then said he: “Certainly.”
    Stepping aside he held the door wide for me as I entered and took my place on the bench. Though it was padded, it had no back. In truth, it was not wonderfully comfortable, yet it was ever so much better than standing like some vagrant outside the door.
    “Thank you,” said I to the butler, ever mindful of my manners.
    “Don’t mention it,” said he, closing the door.
    Then, turning his back on me, he started away, stopped, and turned to look again.
    “Young man,” said he, “that is a very handsome coat.”
    I could scarce believe my own ears. I stammered and stuttered and barely managed to call out my thanks before he disappeared down the hall. In the two years I had been trotting between Bow Street and Bloomsbury Square I had not known the butler to unbend previously — not once, not in the slightest. This must indeed be a considerable coat to awaken admiration in one by nature so cold.
    It had so raised me in Marieih’s estimation that she had doubled her price. Ah yes, of course, as I sat there alone and prepared myself for a long wait, my thoughts fled swiftly back to her. I called up the image of her as we had talked but minutes before in the doorway. There was beauty in that face of hers, to be sure, but there was true emotion, life, and good humor as well. Were all Italian girls so? No, I was convinced that of all in the world she was unique. So is it when one is young.
    As best I could, I summoned up a much dimmer memory of her from two years past. On a Sunday afternoon I had stood in a crowd assembled in the piazza and watched a troupe of acrobats and tumblers performing quite impossible feats. Most impressive of all was the small black-haired girl who climbed to the top of a human pyramid, posed triumphantly for a long moment as the crowd applauded, then dove headlong to the mats far below. She had tumbled, bounced to her feet, then been applauded even more enthusiastically. Pence