"May you never be inside," said Orsino.
Spicca emptied his glass and looked at him, as he set it down again.
"May you never know what it is to have been inside," he said.
"You speak as though you had some experience."
"Yes, I have—through an acquaintance of mine."
"That is the most agreeable way of gaining experience."
"Yes," answered Spicca with a ghastly smile. "Perhaps I may tell you the story some day. You may profit by it. It ended rather dramatically—so far as it can be said to have ended at all. But we will not speak of it just now. Here is another dish of poison—do you call that thing a fish, Checco? Ah—yes. I perceive that you are right. The fact is apparent at a great distance. Take it away. We are all mortal, Checco, but we do not like to be reminded of it so very forcibly. Give me a tomato and some vinegar."
"And the birds, Signore? Do you not want them any more?"
"The birds—yes, I had forgotten. And another flask of wine, Checco."
"It is not empty yet, Signore," observed the waiter lifting the rush-covered bottle and shaking it a little.