The gloating eyes of Sara were fixed upon him, and Di Bello did something very unusual for him—he dissembled his feelings.
“What of it?” he said with an air of unconcern. “Why should he not kiss her? It is no affair of mine.”
Though a good piece of acting, it did not gammon the keen wits of Sara the Frier of Pepper Pods. Taking up her bag of salt, she clattered from the shop, and before long stood the voluble centre of a group of eager women, into whose ears she poured the tidings of rival loves in Casa Di Bello. Meantime the grocer, waiting for Bertino, fanned his wrath. When the young man turned up at the shop this was his greeting:
“Satan the Pig!”
“Why?” asked Bertino.
“And you have the courage to ask? Very innocent for one who tries to rob me of the woman I love. O traitor!”
Bertino stood speechless with amazement and dismay. His good-natured, easy-going uncle prancing about the place in a fit of passion was a sight that took his breath away.
“By the Egg of Columbus!” Di Bello continued, raising his clinched fist and fixing his eyes upon the loops of dried sausage suspended from the ceiling—“by the Egg, I swear it, if you don’t keep away from that woman I’ll turn you from my door—I’ll have your heart’s blood!”
“What woman?” Bertino asked gingerly, and with a feint of ignorance that was not convincing.
“Bah! Don’t play the fool. I know all. Remember what I tell you—keep away from her.”