His first disappointment turned to redoubled hatred of the man who had
caused it, and whom it was safer to hate now than formerly, since he was
in the clutches of the law; moreover, the defeat of Giovanni's hopes was
by no means final, after the first shock was over. He could make an
excuse for having the garden dug over, on pretence of improving it
during his father's absence; the more easily, as he had learned that the
garden had always been under Zorzi's care, and must now be cultivated
by some one else. Giovanni did not believe it possible that the precious
box had been taken away altogether. It was therefore near, and he could
find it, and there would be plenty of time before his father's return.
Nevertheless, he looked about the laboratory and went into the small
room where Zorzi had slept. There was water there, and Spanish soap, and
he washed his hands carefully, and brushed the dust from his coat and
from the knees of his fine black hose. He knew that his patient wife
would be waiting for him when he went back to the house.
He searched Zorzi's room carefully, but could find nothing. An earthen
jar containing broken white glass stood in one corner. The narrow
truckle-bed, with its single thin mattress and flattened pillow, all
neat and trim, could not have hidden anything.
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