"I have just eaten, thank you," answered Dalrymple, seating himself.
"Three hours ago. It was not yet an hour of the night when you ate. Well—at your pleasure. Do not complain afterwards that we make you die of hunger."
"Bread, Annetta!" said Stefanone, gruffly but good-naturedly. "And cheese, and salt—wine, too! A thousand things! Quickly, my daughter."
"Quicker than this?" inquired the girl, who had already placed most of the things he asked for upon the table.
"I say it to say it," answered her father. "'Hunger makes long jumps,' and I am hungry."
"Did you win anything?" asked Sora Nanna, with both her elbows on the table.
"Five baiocchi."
"It was worth while to pay ten baiocchi for another man's bad wine, for the sake of winning so much!" replied Sora Nanna, who was a careful soul. "Of course you paid for the wine?"
"Eh—of course. They pay for wine when they come here. One takes a little and one gives a little. This is life."
Annetta busied herself with the simple preparations for supper, while they talked. Dalrymple watched her idly, and he thought she was pale, and that her eyes were very bright. She had set a plate for herself, but had forgotten her glass.