"Pappina, mia carissima, Pappina!" Marta walked a few steps then stopped. "Should Guiseppe return and find us gone!" Even as she spoke she did not feel her usual fear.
"But I am starved, Marta. I must eat, unless, dear, good Marta, you who love me say I mustn't."
Marta hesitated for a moment, looking down the street to see if her husband was returning. He was nowhere in sight. Her love for Pappina conquered her fear of Guiseppe's displeasure.
"Wait for me here," she said. "I will go and bring us food."
With all haste it was purchased and eaten. It was long after they had finished their simple meal that Guiseppe returned from his revelry.
His mood was changed. He had drank so much wine he could scarcely stand up. He loved the little girl who had filled his purse. He laid his hand caressingly on her head. She shuddered at his touch, and clung close to Marta, who looked fearlessly into Guiseppe's face and said sternly:
"I am used to your thoughtlessness, used even to cruelty; but Pappina is worn out, and she must have her rest."
"Eh! What's that you say? She's tired? Macaroni and a bottle of wine will build her up. Come on, sweet one." Stretching out his hand to Pappina, he continued: "Throughout the town those who have seen you and heard you to–night sing your praises. They believe you are mine. Ebbene! So you are, sweet one—so you are."
"Guiseppe," and Pappina looked pleadingly into his half–closed eyes, "Guiseppe, if you love me so much, take me where we shall sleep to–night. I'm not hungry, Guiseppe, but I'm so tired. I want to go to sleep."
Worn out, Pappina began to cry. Marta quickly gathered the child into her arms and carried her to a place Guiseppe selected as suitable to spend the night.