They bow with immense deference when the door opens, but the bow conceals a smirk because of those Venetian days.

That confounded Versoy shoved his nose into that business; he says accidentally.

He saw them together on the Lido and (those writing fellows are horrible) he wrote what he calls a vignette (I suppose accidentally, too) under that very title.

There was in it a Prince and a lady and a big dog.

He described how the Prince on landing from the gondola emptied his purse into the hands of a picturesque old beggar, while the lady, a little way off, stood gazing back at Venice with the dog romantically stretched at her feet.