But nothing happened.

Paoluccio opened a cupboard in the wall with a key he carried, took out a bottle of the coarse aniseed spirits which the Roman peasants drink, and filled himself a small glass of the stuff, which he tossed off with evident pleasure.

Then he filled his pipe, lit it carefully, and went to the door again.

By this time, though he had apparently not bestowed the least attention on Ercole, he had made up his mind about him, and was not mistaken.

Ercole belonged to the better class of customers.
"You come from the Roman shore ?" he said, with an interrogation.
"To serve you," Ercole assented, with evident willingness to enter into conversation.