The bambino, to express his agony, was grinning from ear to ear.
He declared that the bambino was a masterpiece, a pure Corregio.
That night Bambino was on his way to Liverpool, from which port the steamer started.
Bambino promised to bring her round that evening, and took his departure.
Even Bambino, wretch that he was, had known what it was to love, and he sighed for her misery.
As he spoke, Bambino drew a long knife and made a thrust with it at Harkaway.
Bambino pointed to Harkaway, who was only a few yards ahead.
Bambino, the Italian, is the paid spy and assassin of Maltravers.
Your place is there to fight for our bambino and his country—you just forgot for a little while.
When I tear the red crown from the staff I wave this one and shout for my bambino.