"Do you see this? Have you noticed that?" Giacobbe kept calling out, drawing attention to every detail and corner of his property; his clean-shaven face, devoid even of eyebrows, growing, meanwhile, almost youthful in its enthusiasm.
"You had better marry my sister," he said presently. "This house will be hers some day."
"You are making fun of me," replied the other. "Because I am poor, you think you can laugh at me as much as you like."
The wooden floors filled the simple soul with awe, and he hardly dared to walk on them. Giacobbe, on the contrary, seemed to enjoy stamping about in his great hobnailed boots, and making as much noise as he could in the big, empty rooms, all redolent of fresh plaster.
The two men paused for a moment at an open window, whose stone sill, baked by the sun, felt hot to the touch. The house stood high, and below them, in black shadow, lay the village, looking like a heap of charcoal beneath the green veil of trees. All about stretched the yellow plain, and, beyond, the great violet-grey sphinxes reared themselves against a cloudless sky. The bell of the little church, clamouring insistently, broke in on the noontide heat and stillness, and the sound was like metal striking against stone, as though far off, in the rocky heart of those huge sphinxes, a drowsy giant were wielding his pick. "Why don't you want to marry my sister?" said Giacobbe again. "This house will belong to her, and this will be her bedroom; here at this very window you could smoke your pipe——"
"I never smoke; do let me be," said the fisherman impatiently. The other's talk began to annoy him.
"I'm not joking, you old lizard," retorted Giacobbe. "Only you are such a dull beggar that you can't even tell that I'm not."
"Listen," said Isidoro. "You have given me my dinner to-day, and so you think you have a right to make game of me. Now, I tell you this, if you want me to be grateful for it, you had better leave me alone."
Giacobbe stared at him for a moment; then he burst into a loud laugh.