You would have found it of great use in your studies." I pictured to myself a quarter of an hour of Schopenhauer, with a piano accompaniment and some one beating time.
"But their name, their name I want to know," objected Nino, as he stepped aside and flattened himself against the pillar to let a carriage pass.

As luck would have it, the old officer and his daughter were in that very cab, and Nino could just make them out by the evening twilight.

He took off his hat, of course, but I am quite sure they did not see him.
"Well, their name is prettier than Conigherazzo," said Ercole.

"It is Lira--Erre Gheraffe fonne Lira." (Herr Graf von Lira, I suppose he meant.

And he has the impudence to assert that singing has taught him to pronounce German.) "And that means," he continued, "Il Conte di Lira, as we should say." "Ah! what a divine appellation!" exclaimed Nino enthusiastically, pulling his hat over his eyes to meditate upon the name at his leisure.
"And her name is Edvigia," volunteered the maestro.