"Were you ever a pirate?" he inquired presently.
"No, I never served in your crew."
The porter was not often at a loss for a surly answer. The Greek laughed outright, in genuine amusement.
"I like your company, my friend," he said. "I should like to spend the day here."
"As the devil said to Saint Anthony," concluded the porter.
Aristarchi laughed again. It was long since he had enjoyed such amusing conversation, and there was a certain novelty in not being feared. He repeated his first question, however, remembering that he had not come in search of diversion, but to gather information.
"Who was the beautiful lady?" he asked. "She is Messer Angelo's daughter, is she not?"
"A man who asks a question when he knows the answer is either a fool or a knave. Choose as you please."
"Thanks, friend," answered Aristarchi, still grinning and showing his jagged teeth. "I leave the first choice to you. Whichever you take, I will take the other. For if you call me a knave, I shall call you a fool, but if you think me a fool, I am quite satisfied that you should be the knave."
The porter snarled, vaguely feeling that the Greek had the better of him. At that moment Zorzi returned, and his coming put an end to the exchange of amenities.