Pappina made no reply. She seemed tired of everything except Marta. She held her good friend's hand tight and drew closer to her every time Guiseppe turned to look at them.
As soon as the town was reached Guiseppe began his growling anew.
"Sorrento! So this is the town old Genaro talks about. Crowing over me! Seems to think he knows such a lot. Bah! Tasso! Tasso—bah, I say!"
"Is that where I am to sing, Guiseppe?" Pappina asked timidly as she shook the dust from her frayed little frock.
"I'm not talking to you. You had better learn to mind you own business. Marta, I'll not leave this town till I see where the sister of that man Tasso lived, and I'll see his statue, too."
"Tasso." Marta spoke the name softly, not daring to question.
"Yes, Tasso. You don't know anything about him, and you don't need to know. If old Genaro thinks we haven't seen scenery since we've been traveling around the country, he's fooled."
Pappina looked shyly into Guiseppe's set, hard face. Her curiosity was aroused and she wanted to know about Tasso.
"Signor Genaro might ask me about Tasso," she suggested, "and I don't know anything about him, do I?"