THE GERMAN PORTER (_a stately person in a gold-laced uniform and a white waistcoat, escaping from importunate visitors_). In von momendt, Matam, I attend to you. You want a larcher roum, Sare? You address ze manager, blease. Your dronks, Laties? I haf zem brod down, yes. _A Lady._ Oh, Porter, we want a gondola this afternoon to go to the Lido, and _do_ try if you can get us Beppo--that _nice_ gondolier, you know, we had yesterday! THE PORTER. Ach! I do nod know _any_ nah-ice gondolier--zey are oal--I dell you, if you lif viz zem ade mons as me, you cot your troat--yes! ANOTHER LADY. Porter, can you tell me the name of the song that man is singing in the barge there? PORTER. I gannot dell you ze name--pecause zey sing always ze same ting! A HELPLESS MAN IN KNICKERBOCKERS (_drifting in at the door_). Here, I say. We engaged rooms here by telegram from Florence. What am I to give these fellows from the station? _Combien_, you know! PORTER. You gif zem two franc--and zen zey vill gromble. You haf engage roums? yes. Zat vill pe oal rahit--Your loggage in ze gondola, yes? I haf it taken op. THE H. M. No, it's left behind at Bologna. My friend's gone back for it. And I say, think it will turn up all right? PORTER. Eef you register it, and your vrient is zere, you ged it--yes. THE H. M. Yes, but look _here_, don't you know? Oughtn't I to make a row--a fuss--about it, or something, eh? PORTER (_moving off with subdued contempt_). Oh, you can make a foss, yes, if you like--you ged nossing! CULCH. _and_ PODB. (_stopping him simultaneously_). I say, I want my luggage brought down from No.--in time for the twelve o'clock--(_To each other._) Hallo! are _you_ off too? CULCH. (_confused_). Er--yes--thought I might as well be getting back. PODB. Then I--I suppose it's all settled--with Miss T.--you know--eh? CULCH. Fortunately--yes. And--er--_your_ engagement happily concluded? PODB. Well, it's _concluded_, anyway. It's all _off_, you know. I--I wasn't artistic enough for her. CULCH. She has refused you? My _dear_ Podbury, I'm really delighted to hear this--at least, that is---- PODB. Oh, don't mind _me_. I'm getting over it. But I must congratulate you on better luck. CULCH. On precisely similar luck. Miss Trotter and I--er--arrived at the conclusion last night that we were not formed to make each other's happiness. PODB. Did you, by Jove? Porter, I say, never mind about that luggage. Do you happen to know if Mr. and Miss Trotter--the American gentleman and his daughter--are down yet? PORTER. Trodders? Led me see, yes, zey ged zeir preakfast early, and start two hours since for Murano and Torcello. PODB. Torcello? Why, that's where Bob and Miss Prendergast talked of going to-day! Culchard, old fellow, I've changed my mind. Shan't leave to-day, after all. I shall just nip over and see what sort of place Torcello is.