The woman, who loved ardent liquor, moved her lips greedily.
Filippo Selvi added, “And you are deserving of it, there is no doubt of that.”
A crowd of idlers had assembled before the café. All wore a teasing expression upon their countenances. Filippo La Selvi having turned to his audience while the woman was drinking, vouchsafed, “And she knew how to find it, did she? The old fox....”
He struck familiarly the bony shoulder of the laundress by way of prelude.
Everyone laughed.
Magnafave, a small hunchback, defective in body and speech and halting on the syllables, cried:
“Ca-ca-ca—Candia—a—and—Cinigia!” He followed this with gesticulations and wary stutterings, all of which implied that Candia and La Cinigia were in league. At this the crowd became convulsed with mirth.
Candia remained dazed for a moment with the glass in her hand. Then of a sudden she understood. They still did not believe in her innocence. They were accusing her of having secretly carried back the spoon, in agreement with the fortune-teller as to the placing of it, in order to escape disgrace.
At this thought, the blind grip of rage seized her. She could not find words for speech. She threw herself upon the weakest of her tormentors, which was the small hunchback, and belaboured him with blows and scratches. The crowd, taking a cruel pleasure in witnessing the scuffle, cheered itself into a circle as if watching the struggle of two animals, and encouraged both combatants with cries and gesticulations.
Magnafave, terrified by her unexpected madness, sought to flee, dodging like a monkey; but, detained by those terrible hands of the laundress, he whirled with ever-increasing velocity, like a stone from a sling, until at length he fell upon his face with great violence.