At that moment the gate swung open without warning and out shot a long, low, elegant car.
Momo, who jumped back only just in time, fell head over heels.
The car sped on for several yards, then screeched to a halt.
An instant later, Guido jumped out. ″Momo!″ he cried, flinging his arms wide.
″If it isn't my own, beloved little Momo!″ Momo scrambled to her feet and ran to him,
and Guido snatched her up in his arms and covered her cheeks with kisses and danced around in the road with her.
″Did you hurt yourself?″ he asked breathlessly, but instead of waiting for a reply he went on talking nineteen to the dozen.
″Sorry I gave you a fright, but I'm in a tearing hurry. Late again, as usual. Where have you been all this time?
You must tell me the whole story. I'd given you up for lost, you know. Did you get my letter? Yes?
So it was still there, eh? Fine, so you went and had a meal at Nino's, did you? Did you enjoy it?
Oh, Momo, we've such a lot to tell each other — so much has happened in the last few months.
How are you, anyway? What's the matter, lost your tongue? And what about old Beppo — what's he up to these days?
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