He was arrayed in his long, rusty gown, and there were the usual shabby slippers on his long, lean feet.

He was ever a man of most indifferent personal habits.
"Ah, Astorre," his wife greeted him.

"My Lord Cardinal brings you good tidings." "Does he so ?" quoth Fifanti, sourly as I thought; and he looked at the legate as though his excellency were the very reverse of a happy harbinger.
"You will rejoice, I think, doctor," said the smiling prelate, "to hear that I have letters from my Lord Pier Luigi appointing you one of the ducal secretaries.

And this, I doubt not, will be followed, on his coming hither, by an appointment to his council.

Meanwhile, the stipend is three hundred ducats, and the work is light." There followed a long and baffling silence, during which the doctor grew first red, then pale, then red again, and Messer Gambara stood with his scarlet cloak sweeping about his shapely limbs, sniffing his pomander and smiling almost insolently into the other's face; and some of the insolence of his look, I thought, was reflected upon the pale, placid countenance of Giuliana.
At last, Fifanti spoke, his little eyes narrowing.
"It is too much for my poor deserts," he said curtly.
"You are too humble," said the prelate.