“But why? Are you going away too?”
The poor child could not speak at all at first, though it was dark and no one could see her face.
From time to time the neighbors could be heard speaking behind the closed doors, or children crying, or the noise of the platters in some house where supper was late; so that no one could hear them talking.
“Now we have half the money we want for old Goosefoot, and at the salting of the anchovies we can pay the other half.”
Alfio, at this, left the donkey in the court and came out into the street. “Then you will be married after Easter?”
Mena did not reply.
“I told you so,” continued Alfio. “I saw Padron ’Ntoni talking with Padron Cipolla.”
“It will be as God wills,” said Mena. “I don’t care to be married if I might only stay on here.”
“What a fine thing it is for Cipolla,” went on Mosca, “to be rich enough to marry whenever he pleases, and take the wife he prefers, and live where he likes!”
“Good-night, Cousin Alfio,” said Mena, after stopping a while to gaze at the lantern hanging on the wicket, and the donkey cropping the nettles on the wall. Cousin Alfio also said good-night, and went back to put the donkey in his stall.