Seeing Marzio's attitude, he started with a short cry and stretched out his arm as though to parry a blow.
"Marzio!" The artist had quickly brought his hand to his forehead, and the ghastly affectation of a smile wreathed about his white lips.

His voice was thick.
"I was only shading my eyes from the sun.

Don't you see how it dazzles me, reflected from the silver?
What did you imagine, Paolo?
You look frightened." "Oh, nothing," answered the priest bravely.

"Perhaps I am a little nervous to-day." "Bacchus! It looks like it," said Marzio, with an attempt to laugh.
Then he tossed the tool upon the table among the rest with an impatient gesture.

"What do you think of the crucifix ?" "It is very wonderful," said Paolo, controlling himself by an effort.
"When did you make it, Marzio?
You have not had time--" "I made it years ago," answered the chiseller, turning his face away to hide his pallor.