"Lady," said Pasquale at last, and rather timidly, "I will take good
care of him. I will get him crutches to-morrow. I will come in the
daytime and keep the fire burning for him."
"It would be far better to let it go out," observed Nella, with much
sense.
"But the experiments!" cried Zorzi, suddenly coming back from his dream.
"I have promised the master to carry them out."
"You see what comes of your glass-working," retorted Nella, pointing to
his bandaged foot.
"How did it happen?" asked Marietta suddenly. "How did you do it?"
"It was done for him," said Pasquale, "and may the Last Judgment come a
hundred times over for him who did it!"
His intention was clearer than his words.
"Do you mean that it was done on purpose, out of spite?" asked Marietta,
looking from Pasquale to Zorzi.
"It was an accident," said the latter. "I was in the main furnace room
with your brother. The blow-pipe with the hot glass slipped from a man's
hand. Your brother saw it--he will tell you."
"I have been porter here for five-and-twenty years," retorted Pasquale,
"and there have been several accidents in that time. But I never heard
of one like that."
"It was nothing else," said Zorzi.
His voice was weak. Nella had finished collecting her belongings.
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