For if you call me a knave, I shall call you a fool, but if you think me a fool, I am quite satisfied that you should be the knave." The porter snarled, vaguely feeling that the Greek had the better of him.

At that moment Zorzi returned, and his coming put an end to the exchange of amenities.
"My master has no long leisure," he said, "but he begs you to come in." They left the lodge together, and the porter watched them as they went down the dark corridor, muttering unholy things about the visitor who had disturbed him, and bestowing a few curses on Zorzi.

Then he went back to peeling his onions.
As Aristarchi went through the garden, he saw Marietta sitting under the plane-tree, making a little net of coloured beads.

Her face was turned from him and bent down, but when he had passed she glanced furtively after him, wondering at his size.

But her eyes followed Zorzi, till the two reached the door and went in.