Don Paolo motioned to the Prince to enter, and followed him in.

A man in a white apron, with his arms full of plates, who was probably servant, butler, boots, and factotum to the establishment, came out of the dining-room, which was to the left of the entrance, and which, to judge by the noise, seemed to be full of people.
He looked at the curate, and then at the Prince.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Don Paolo _mio_," he said, supposing the priest had brought a customer--"very sorry; there is not a bed in the house." "That is no matter, Giacchino," answered the curate.

"We want to see Sor Giovanni for a moment." The man disappeared, and a moment later Sor Giovanni himself came down the passage.
"_Favorisca_, dear Don Paolo, come in." And he bowed to the Prince as he opened the door which led into a small sitting-room reserved for the innkeeper's family.
When they had entered, Saracinesca looked at his son's namesake.

He saw before him a man whose face and figure he long remembered with an instinctive dislike.

Giovanni the innkeeper was of a powerful build.