Giovanni opened his eyes in astonishment. In his estimation there was no man living, except his father, who could have done such work. Zorzi smiled, for he knew what the other's astonishment meant.
"I made them all," he said, unable to resist the temptation to take the credit that was justly his.
"You made those things?" repeated Giovanni incredulously.
But Zorzi was not in the least offended by his disbelief. The more sceptical Giovanni was, the greater the honour in having produced anything so rarely beautiful.
"I made those, and many others which the master keeps in his house," he said.
Giovanni would have liked to give him the lie, but he dared not just then.
"If you made them, you could make something of the kind again," he said. "I should like to see that. Take your blow-pipe and try. Then I shall believe you."
"There is no white glass in the furnace," answered Zorzi. "If there were, I would show you what I can do."
Giovanni laughed sourly.
"I thought you would find some good excuse," he said.