The low and steady roar of the flames was varied by the occasional sharp click of iron or the soft sound of hot glass rolling on the marver, or by the hiss of a metal instrument plunged into water to cool it.

Every man had an apprentice to help him, and two boys tended the fire.

The foreman sat at a table, busy with an account, a small man, even paler than the others and dressed in shabby brown hose and a loose brown coat.
The workmen wore only hose and shirts.
Without desisting from their occupations they cast surprised glances at Giovanni and his companion, whom they all hated as a favoured person.
One of them was finishing a drinking-glass, rolling the pontil on the arms of the working-stool; another, a beetle-browed fellow, swung his long blow-pipe with its lump of glowing glass in a full circle, high in air and almost to touch the ground; another was at a 'bocca' in the low glare; all were busy, and the air was very hot and close.

The men looked grim and ill-tempered.
Giovanni explained the object of his coming in a way intended to conciliate them to himself at Zorzi's expense.

Their presence gave him courage.
"This is Zorzi, the man without a name," he said, "who is come from Dalmatia to give us a lesson in glass-blowing." One of the men laughed, and the apprentices tittered.