"One little blunder, when you spoke of selling your soul. Lor' bless you, Old Scratch isn't such a fool as to buy nowadays, whatever he may have done years ago."
Another angry exclamation from Tomaso.
"You see, the old gentleman has gained some experience as a trader, and he knows well enough that if he waits a little time, he'll get you all free-gratis for nothing at all."
"You are a devil, Englishman."
"And you are not exactly an angel. However, if I am a devil, you may consider you are regularly sold to me. So now come along; keep your hands under your cloak, and no one will notice the little decorations on your wrists."
"You are a devil, Signor Englishman; but you will die for this."
"Pshaw! I've collared scores of desperate villains, and they all said something of the same kind, yet here I am."
"You will die," repeated Tomaso.
"Some clay, of course; but we have a proverb in England; would you like to hear it?"
Tomaso tossed his head with lofty indifference.