Then the shopman, for Charlotte, momentously broke silence.

"You've seen, disgraziatamente, signora principessa," he sadly said, "too much"-- and it made the Prince face about.

For the effect of the momentous came, if not from the sense, from the sound of his words; which was that of the suddenest, sharpest Italian.

Charlotte exchanged with her friend a glance that matched it, and just for the minute they were held in check.
But their glance had, after all, by that time, said more than one thing; had both exclaimed on the apprehension, by the wretch, of their intimate conversation, let alone of her possible, her impossible, title, and remarked, for mutual reassurance, that it didn't, all the same, matter.
The Prince remained by the door, but immediately addressing the speaker from where he stood.
"You're Italian then, are you ?" But the reply came in English.

"Oh dear no." "You're English ?" To which the answer was this time, with a smile, in briefest Italian.
"Che!" The dealer waived the question--he practically disposed of it by turning straightway toward a receptacle to which he had not yet resorted and from which, after unlocking it, he extracted a square box, of some twenty inches in height, covered with worn-looking leather.