"Blood of a dog! If you had not the face of an honest man I should think you were another of those newspaper men in disguise, pigs and animals that they are and sons of evil mothers, and ill befall their wicked dead, and their little dead ones, and those that shall be born to them!" Paoluccio's eyes were bloodshot and he spat furiously, half across the road.

Nino watched him and hitched the side of his upper lip on one of his lower fangs, which produced the effect of a terrific smile.

Ercole was unmoved.
"I suppose," he observed, "that they said it happened in your inn." "And why should it happen in my inn, rather than in any other inn ?" inquired Paoluccio angrily.
"Indeed," said Ercole, "I cannot imagine why they should say that it did! Some one must have put the story about.

A servant, perhaps, whom you sent away." "We did not send Regina away," answered Paoluccio, still furious.

"She ran away in the night, about that time.