So he was a banker, as well as a musician and a wanderer.

Who would have thought it?
"One thing is clear," I said to myself, as I went to bed: "unless something is done immediately, that poor girl will consume herself and die." And all that night her poor thin face and staring eyes were in my dreams; so that I woke up several times, thinking I was trying to comfort her, and could not.

But toward dawn I felt sure that Nino was coming, and that all would be well.
I was chatting with my old landlady the next morning, and smoking to pass the time, when there was suddenly a commotion in the street.

That is to say, someone was arriving, and all the little children turned out in a body to run after the stranger, while the old women came to their doors with their knitting, and squinted under the bright sunlight to see what was the matter.
It was Nino, of course--my own boy, riding on a stout mule, with a countryman by his side upon another.

He was dressed in plain gray clothes, and wore high boots.