There was no reply from the child, who stood looking in amazement at Guiseppe, as she tightly held Marta's bony hand.
"Oh, afraid of me for once, are you?" he sneered. "Marta, the minx is afraid of me. Bravo! Bravo! I'll drink to her health as soon as we find a wine–shop. Ha, ha, Marta! She's a coward, after all."
He stooped to pick up a coin he had dropped. Pappina, unable longer to control herself, sprang at him in a furious rage. She gave him one fierce slap across the cheek. With a cry of pain, he turned on the child. Marta caught hold of him.
"Guiseppe, Guiseppe," she cried, "you'll lose her if you strike her."
Still he attempted to reach Pappina, blind in his drunken fury. Marta held him with an iron grip.
"Don't!" she screamed. "Don't! You shan't! She'll run away. Stop, Guiseppe! You know you can't strike her and keep her."
Guiseppe shook Marta fiercely. Her sparse brown locks loosened and fell about her livid face, but still she held him, and the drunken man was no match for her. He struggled to break away, but Marta seemed to possess superhuman strength. Her grip on his arm was so strong that it pained him.
"Let go, you fiend!" he cried.