"How could I tell you?" The words were spoken almost under his breath.
"It would be very easy to tell me," she said. "Perhaps I could help you—"
"Oh no, no, no!" he cried with an accent of real pain. "You could not help me!"
"Who knows? Perhaps I am the best friend you have in the world, Zorzi."
"Indeed I believe you are! No one has ever been so good to me."
"And you have not many friends," continued Marietta. "The workmen are jealous of you, because you are always with my father. My brothers do not like you, for the same reason, and they think that you will get my father's secret from him some day, and outdo them all. No—you have not many friends."
"I have none, but you and the master. The men would kill me if they dared."
Marietta started a little, remembering how the workmen had looked at him in the morning, when he came out.
"You need not be afraid," he added, seeing her movement. "They will not touch me."
"Does my father know what your trouble is?" asked Marietta suddenly.