“ At some unmentionably young age. Chickens such as you soon learn to cheep.”
“ Chickens such as I soon learn to cheap,” repeated Del Torre, pleased with the verbal play. “What is cheap, please? What is TO CHEAP?”
“ Cheep! Cheep!” squeaked Argyle, making a face at the little Italian, who was perched on one strap of the luggage-stool. “It's what chickens say when they're poking their little noses into new adventures—naughty ones.”
“ Are chickens naughty? Oh! I thought they could only be good!”
“ Featherless chickens like yourself, my boy.”
“ Oh, as for featherless—then there is no saying what they will do.—” And here the Marchese turned away from Argyle with the inevitable question to Lilly:
“ Well, and how long will you stay in Florence?”
Lilly did not know: but he was not le
