Thereupon, thumping the table, Uros exclaimed:
"I tell you I'm going to marry your daughter, though, if the truth must be known, I don't care a fig for her, pretty as she is. I've got——"
"And I swear by God that you'll never marry her!" cried Giulianic, exasperated.
"That's rich," quoth Uros. "On what do you swear, old bald-pate?"
"I swear on my faith."
"And on your soul, eh?"
"On my soul, too."
"With your hand on the Cross?" asked Uros, handing him a little
Cross.
"I swear," answered Giulianic, beyond himself with rage.
"Well, well, that'll do; don't get angry, take it coolly as I do. You see, I'm not put out. As long as you settle the matter with my father, Milos Bellacic, I'm quite satisfied."