signore

“She is your sister, signore?” the waiter asks as he sets the check between them, glancing at Moushumi and then back at Gogol.

Begone, signore!" he burst out, "lest my patience exhausts itself, and I give you a bed in the snow.

"Your pardon, signore; but we heard the ladies cry out, and seeing you here----" "Where you should have been," I interrupted, "you lag too far behind your mistress."

A Sicilian, a fellow-passenger from Palermo to Naples, who one moment was groaning in the agony of seasickness and the next playing on his violin, said to me, "Canta il, signore?"

If such be my fate, signore,—if I am guilty, the punishment is great enough: if I am not guilty, it is too great.'