CHAPTER IX
Sorrento, Where Hardships End
"Fifteen miles to Sorrento. As near as I can find out, there'll be no money for us along the way," Guiseppe muttered as they left St. Andrew's Cathedral.
"There's Positano," said Marta, "and the villas. You have passed so many and stopped at none."
Guiseppe looked surprised.
"So I have, fool that I am! Why didn't you speak of it before?"
Marta made no reply and the three walked on in silence. Guiseppe evidently was brooding over the money he had missed, for after some half hour's tramp he turned to Marta.
"Why didn't you speak?" he growled. "Lords and ladies in the villas we have passed, and no money for me! Do you think we've done so well we can afford to lose a chance? Marta, you seem to have a way of keeping your mouth shut when you should open it, but you have been free enough with your tongue lately when you should have held it."
Guiseppe was growing almost unbearable. He grumbled at everybody and everything.
When they met women carrying wood to town, wine–venders and occasionally foreigners, he received their greetings with a scowl. Once or twice tourists had tossed Pappina a few soldi, but no one wanted the Punchinellos.