Jenny | Page 7

made me come I want to smoke and drink and be out the whole night."
"I was under the impression that you had suggested it yourself."
"I think the malachite necklace was very fine," said Ahlin, by way of
interrupting - "and very cheap."
"Yes, but in Florence malachite is much cheaper still. This thing cost
forty-seven lire. In Florence, where Jenny bought her cristallo rosso, I
could have got one for thirty-five. Jenny gave only eighteen for hers.
But I will make him give me the corals for ninety lire."
"I don't quite understand your economy," said Heggen.
"I don't want to talk about it any more," said Miss Jahrman. "I am sick
of all this talk - and tomorrow I am going to buy the corals."
"But isn't ninety lire an awful price for corals?" Heggen risked the
question.
"They are not ordinary corals, you know," Miss Jahrman deigned to
answer. "They are contadina corals, a fat chain with a gold clasp and
heavy drops - like that."
"Contadina - is that a special kind of coral?" asked Helge.

"No. It is what the contadinas wear."
"But I don't know what a contadina is, you see."
"A peasant girl. Have you not seen those big, dark red, polished corals
they wear? Mine are exactly the colour of raw beef, and the bead in the
middle is as big as that" - and she formed a ring with her thumb and
forefinger the size of an egg.
"How beautiful they must be," said Helge, pleased to get hold of the
thread of conversation. "I don't know what malachite is, or cristallo
rossa, but I am sure that corals like those would suit you better than
anything."
"Do you hear, Ahlin? And you wanted me to have the malachite
necklace. Heggen's scarf-pin is malachite - take it off, Gunnar - and
Jenny's beads are cristallo rosso, not rossa - red rock crystals, you
know."
She handed him the scarf-pin and the necklace. The beads were warm
from contact with the young girl's neck. He looked at them a while; in
every bead there were small flaws, as it were, which absorbed the light.
"You ought really to wear corals, Miss Jahrman. You would look
exactly like a Roman contadina yourself."
"You don't say so!" She smiled, pleased. "Do you hear, you others?"
"You have an Italian name, too," said Helge eagerly.
"No. I was named after my grandmother, but the Italian family I lived
with last year could not pronounce my ugly name, and since then I have
stuck to the Italian version of it."
"Francesca," said Ahlin, in a whisper.
"I shall always think of you as Francesca - signorina Francesca."
"Why not Miss Jahrman? Unfortunately we cannot speak Italian

together, since you don't know the language." She turned to the others.
"Jenny, Gunnar - I am going to buy the corals tomorrow."
"Yes; I think I heard you say so," said Heggen.
"And I will not pay more than ninety."
"You always have to bargain here," said Helge, as one who knows. "I
went into a shop this afternoon near St. Pietro and bought this thing for
my mother. They asked seven lire, but I got it for four. Don't you think
it was cheap?" He put the thing on the table.
Francesca looked at it with contempt. "It costs two fifty in the market. I
took a pair of them to each of the maids at home last year."
"The man said it was old," retorted Helge.
"They always do, when they see that people don't understand, and don't
know the language."
"You don't think it is pretty?" said Helge, downcast, and wrapped the
pink tissue paper round his treasure. "Don't you think I can give it to
my mother?"
"I think it is hideous," said Francesca, "but, of course, I don't know
your mother's taste."
"What on earth shall I do with it, then?" sighed Helge.
"Give it to your mother," said Jenny. "She will be pleased that you have
remembered her. Besides, people at home like those things. We who
live out here see so much that we become more critical."
Francesca reached her hand for Ahlin's cigarette-case, but he did not
want to let her have it; they whispered together eagerly, then she flung
it away, calling: "Giuseppe!"
Helge understood that she ordered the man to bring her some cigarettes.
Ahlin got up suddenly: "My dear Miss Jahrman - I meant only to . . .

you know it is not good for you to smoke so much."
Francesca rose. She had tears in her eyes.
"Never mind. I want to go home."
"Miss Jahrman - Cesca." Ahlin stood holding her cloak and begged her
quietly not to go. She pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.
"Yes;