_Monsignor._ Thanks, friends, many thanks! I chiefly desire life now, that I may recompense every one of you. Most I know something of already. What, a repast prepared? _Benedicto benedicatur_--ugh, ugh! Where was I? Oh, as you were remarking, Ugo, the weather is 5 mild, very unlike winter weather; but I am a Sicilian, you know, and shiver in your Julys here. To be sure, when 'twas full summer at Messina, as we priests used to cross in procession the great square on Assumption Day, you might see our thickest yellow tapers twist suddenly in 10 two, each like a falling star, or sink down on themselves in a gore of wax. But go, my friends, but go! [_To the_ Intendant.] Not you, Ugo! [_The others leave the apartment._] I have long wanted to converse with you, Ugo. _Intendant._ Uguccio-- 15 _Monsignor._ ... 'guccio Stefani, man! of Ascoli, Fermo and Fossombruno--what I do need instructing about are these accounts of your administration of my poor brother's affairs. Ugh! I shall never get through a third part of your accounts; take some of these dainties 20 before we attempt it, however. Are you bashful to that degree? For me, a crust and water suffice. _Intendant._ Do you choose this especial night to question me? _Monsignor._ This night, Ugo. You have managed my 25 late brother's affairs since the death of our elder brother --fourteen years and a month, all but three days. On the Third of December, I find him-- _Intendant._ If you have so intimate an acquaintance with your brother's affairs, you will be tender of turning 30 so far back: they will hardly bear looking into, so far back.