'He flies—as I fly.'
He surveyed her thoughtfully.
'You fly in dreams, Monna Cassandra.'
'You think that is it? Nay, others have seen me fly. Perhaps you know not the tale?'
The smith scratched his head hesitatingly.
'But I forget,' she said mockingly; 'you are all learned folk here, who believe not in miracles, but in mechanics.'
'S'death! Those same mechanics are a weight on my neck. Did you but know——' He spread out his hands appealingly, and continued: 'Monna Cassandra; you know my faithfulness. Nor is there temptation to chatter, lest Frate Angelo play eavesdropper. Tell me, then, in all secrecy, tell me of your charity with all the particulars——'
'Tell you what?'
'How you fly.'
'Not that, my friend; no. If you know too much you will age too soon.'