"But where the devil is this place?" asked little Anania, opening his hands with a gesture of great contempt.
"We are getting near. Are you tired?"
"I? Tired?" he said, starting to run again.
He began, however, to feel a little pain in his knees. He did not run so fast. He walked by Olì's side and chattered. But the woman, the bundle on her head, her face white, circles round her eyes, hardly heeded him and made absent answers.
"Shall we come back to-night? Why didn't you let me tell Zuanne? Is the wood far off? Is it at Mamojada?"
"Yes, at Mamojada."
"When is the festa at Mamojada? Is it true that Zuanne has been at Nuoro? This is the road to Nuoro, I know that. And it takes ten hours to walk to Nuoro. Have you been to Nuoro? When is the festa at Nuoro?"
"It's over. It was the other day. Would you like to go to Nuoro?" asked Olì, rousing herself.
"Of course, I should. And then—then——"
"You know your father is at Nuoro?" said Olì, guessing his thought. "Would you like to be with him?"