“But not entirely of gold,” I said; “there must be some silver with it.”
“Why, no!” he retorted; and, in order to compel the boy to look, he held the watch before his face, and said to him, “Say, look here! isn’t it true that it is entirely of gold?”
The boy replied curtly, “I don’t know.”
“Oh! oh!” exclaimed Votini, full of wrath, “what pride!”
As he was saying this, his father came up, and heard him; he looked steadily at the lad for a moment, then said sharply to his son, “Hold your tongue!” and, bending down to his ear, he added, “he is blind!”
Votini sprang to his feet, with a shudder, and stared the boy in the face: the latter’s eyeballs were glassy, without expression, without sight.
Votini stood humbled,—speechless,—with his eyes fixed on the ground. At length he stammered, “I am sorry; I did not know.”
But the blind boy, who had understood it all, said, with a kind and melancholy smile, “Oh, it’s no matter!”
Well, he is vain; but Votini has not at all a bad heart. He never laughed again during the whole of the walk.