"
"Where?" asked Zorzi.
"My master said that you would know the place, sir, having been there
before."
"What is your master's name?"
"The Angel," answered the man promptly, keeping his eyes on Zorzi's
face.
The latter nodded, and the servant at once made an awkward obeisance
preparatory to going away.
"Tell your master," said Zorzi, "that I have hurt my foot and am walking
on crutches, so that I cannot come this evening, but that I thank him
for his invitation, and send greeting to him and to the other guests."
The man repeated some of the words in a tone hardly audible, evidently
committing the message to memory.
"Signor Zorzi--hurt his foot--crutches--thanks--greeting," he mumbled.
"Yes, sir," he added in his ordinary voice, "I will say all that. Your
servant, sir."
With another awkward bow, he turned away to the right and walked very
quickly along the footway. He had left his boat at the entrance to the
canal, not knowing exactly where the glass-house was. Zorzi looked after
him a moment, then turned himself on his sound foot and set his crutches
before him to go in. Pasquale was there, and must have heard what had
passed. He shut the door and followed Zorzi back a little way.
"It is no concern of mine," he said roughly.
Pages:
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256