Perhaps it is because I am unhappy." "Very well, never dare to be happy again, if you mean to succeed.

You can make a statue shed tears if you please." Ercole took a pinch of snuff, and turned round to look out of the window.

Nino leaned on the piano, drumming with his fingers and looking at the back of the maestro's head.

The first rays of the sun just fell into the room and gilded the red brick floor.
"Then instead of buying lavender kid gloves," said Nino at last, his face relaxing a little, "and going to the Villa Borghese, you advise me to borrow a guitar and sing to my statue?
Is that it ?" "Che Diana! I did not say that!" said Ercole, still facing the window and finishing his pinch of snuff with a certain satisfaction.

"But if you want the guitar, take it--there it lies.