"I am ashamed of my long delay, and I can only say to you, frankly, that my time this winter has not been my own." Rowland assented, ungrudgingly fumbled for the Italian correlative of the adage "Better late than never," begged him to be seated, and offered him a cigar.

The Cavaliere sniffed imperceptibly the fragrant weed, and then declared that, if his kind host would allow him, he would reserve it for consumption at another time.

He apparently desired to intimate that the solemnity of his errand left him no breath for idle smoke-puffings.
Rowland stayed himself, just in time, from an enthusiastic offer of a dozen more cigars, and, as he watched the Cavaliere stow his treasure tenderly away in his pocket-book, reflected that only an Italian could go through such a performance with uncompromised dignity.

"I must confess," the little old man resumed, "that even now I come on business not of my own--or my own, at least, only in a secondary sense.

I have been dispatched as an ambassador, an envoy extraordinary, I may say, by my dear friend Mrs.Light." "If I can in any way be of service to Mrs.Light, I shall be happy," Rowland said.
"Well then, dear sir, Casa Light is in commotion.