The door of the living-room was open, and from it came the sound of angry voices and loud cries.
Mattina walked right in.
“I am here,” she announced, “and neither have I seen your ….”
But she could not finish her sentence; a furiously angry woman rushed at her, caught her by the shoulder, and shook her viciously.
“You thief!” she screamed. “You little thief! This is how you repay me for taking you in! And you have the face to speak also!”
If Mattina had been a poor little servant all her life, and if her parents had been servants before her, she would perhaps have insisted on her innocence more respectfully, but until lately she had always lived with her equals, and also she was the child of free islanders, who had never called any one their master.
With both hands she pushed her mistress away from her as hard as she could push.
“Leave me! Leave me I tell you! I a thief! I! It is you are a liar for saying so!”
But two heavy blows sent her staggering against the table.
Then it seemed as though all the people in the room were about to fall upon her, and she crouched there with uplifted arm to protect her head.