“Yes, Americans do things like that on the spur of the moment. But if you saw a Spanish woman behave that way, it would seem wrong to you.”
Chattering amicably they came to the Piazza Esedra.
“Would you care to have lunch with me?” said Kennedy.
“Just what I was going to propose to you.”
“I eat alone.”
“I do not. I eat with my sister.”
“The Marchesa di Vaccarone?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must pardon me if I accept your invitation, for I am very anxious to meet her.”
“Then come along.”