Her face eluded him, he was bewildered, confused, then tried to console himself trusting to his instinct.
"I should know her—I'm sure I should," he thought passionately.
"Why has your mother come back?" he asked Bustianeddu once.
"Why? Because this is her own town. She was working at a dressmaker's in Turin. She got tired of it and came home."
There was a pause. Neither of the lads believed in the dressmaker at Turin, but they accepted the story. Anania even said—
"Then your father aught to make it up with her."
"No," said Bustianeddu, defending his father, "he's quite right. You see there was no necessity for her to go away, and work for her living!"
"Your father works himself. What's the shame of working?"
"My father keeps a shop," corrected the other.
"Well, what's she going to do now? And which of them will you live with?"