Crossing to Paradise
“Next morning, the sun was only halfway up the dome of the sky when one of Gobbo’s sailors pointed-and-pushed Gatty and Nest up to the captain’s cabin. Gobbo and Signor Umberto were awaiting them.
“Gatti!” said Signor Umberto. “Nest.” He bowed to each girl. “Raindrops. Wind in pines. Nest. Gatti. Beautiful names.”
Gatty shook her head. “Not mine,” she said. “It’s gat-toothed.”
“Sounds pretty,” said Signor Umberto. “Light on my tongue. You are pilgrims?”
“Our lady died,” Nest explained.
Signor Umberto made the sign of the cross. “Gobbo told it to me.”
“We were Lady Gwyneth’s servants,” Gatty said, and she turned to Nest. “What would she say, our being here like this?”
“She wouldn’t mind,” said Nest. “It’s different on board; everyone talks to everyone.”
Signor Umberto was even more handsome than the girls had supposed. Not only was his hair blond but his watchful blue eyes were set wide apart, and his tanned, olive face was not in the least pitted or pocked; he had a full, almost womanl...y mouth, and a slow, gathering smile.MoreLess
“Gatti!” said Signor Umberto. “Nest.” He bowed to each girl. “Raindrops. Wind in pines. Nest. Gatti. Beautiful names.”
Gatty shook her head. “Not mine,” she said. “It’s gat-toothed.”
“Sounds pretty,” said Signor Umberto. “Light on my tongue. You are pilgrims?”
“Our lady died,” Nest explained.
Signor Umberto made the sign of the cross. “Gobbo told it to me.”
“We were Lady Gwyneth’s servants,” Gatty said, and she turned to Nest. “What would she say, our being here like this?”
“She wouldn’t mind,” said Nest. “It’s different on board; everyone talks to everyone.”
Signor Umberto was even more handsome than the girls had supposed. Not only was his hair blond but his watchful blue eyes were set wide apart, and his tanned, olive face was not in the least pitted or pocked; he had a full, almost womanl...y mouth, and a slow, gathering smile.MoreLess
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