The cavern ceased to grow. As a matter of fact, it
turned out to be just large enough.
That current of air ventilating the grotto made the fortune of these
orphan girls--Luisella and her three sisters. The barrels and other
lumber once removed, the recess became a breezy night-tavern, its
natural vaulting being first whitewashed and then adorned, by
master-hand, with thrilling pictures of crimson fish afloat upon
caerulean waves, and piles of bossy pumpkins, and birds of Paradise with
streaming golden feathers, and goats at pasture among blue lilies, and
horses prancing over emerald mountains, and trees laden with flowers
and fruits such as no mortal had ever seen or tasted. It was an ideal
place for a carousal.
They could cook, those girls. Their savoury stews and vegetable soups
and FRITTURAS of every description were known far and wide. It was
universally agreed that nobody could make a more appetizing mayonnaise
sauce for cold fish and lobsters. No mayonnaise was quite like theirs;
no, not quite.
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