"He is a 'ballarino'!" The others all laughed, too, and the name remained his as long as he lived--he was Zorzi Ballarin.
The old foreman came to help him, seeing that he was really injured, for no one had quite realised it at first.

Savagely as they hated him, the workmen would not have tortured him, though they might have killed him outright if they had dared.

Excepting Piero and the man who had hurt him, the workmen all went on with their work.
He was ghastly pale, and great drops of sweat rolled down his forehead as he reached the foreman's chair and sat down: but after the first cry he had uttered, he made no sound.

The foreman could hear how his teeth ground upon each other as he mastered the frightful suffering.

Giovanni came, and stood looking at the helpless foot, smashed by the weight that had fallen upon it and burned to the bone in an instant by the molten glass.
"I cannot walk," he said at last to the foreman.