No one could have told what she felt, even from that one flashing look she had given her father.

Zorzi did not try to understand her yet; he only loved her, and she was his master's daughter, and if his master found out his secret it would be a very evil day for him.

So he poked the fire with his iron rod, and set his teeth, and said nothing, while old Beroviero moved about the room.
"Zorzi," said the master presently, "I meant you to hear what I said to my daughter." "I heard, sir," answered the young man, rising respectfully, and waiting for more.
"Remember the name you heard," said Beroviero.
If the matter had been any other in the world, Zorzi would have smiled at the master's words, because they bade him do just what Marietta had forbidden.

The one said "forget," the other "remember." For the first time in his life Zorzi found it easier to obey his lady's father than herself.

He bent his head respectfully.
"I trust you, Zorzi," continued Beroviero, slowly mixing some materials in a little wooden trough on the table.