Turlendana continued to lift the fishes from his plate, one after another, taking off their heads and tails, and devouring them, chewing them up, bones and all. After every two or three fishes he drank a draught of wine.
“Do you know anybody here?” Verdura asked with eager curiosity.
“Perhaps,” replied the other laconically.
Baffled by the brevity of his interlocutor, the wine man grew silent again. Above the uproar of the drinkers below, Turlendana’s slow and laboured mastication could be heard. Presently Verdura again Ventured to open his mouth.
“In what countries is the camel found? Are those two humps natural? Can such a great, strong beast ever be tamed?”
Turlendana allowed him to go on without replying.
“Your name, Mister?”
The man to whom this question was put raised his head from his plate, and answered simply, as before:
“I am called Turlendana.”
“What?”