The Making of a Saint

by W. Somerset Maugham

My meditations were interrupted.

'Corpo di Bacco!'

It was Matteo, and in a moment I was in his arms.

'I was just asking myself what that fool was staring at this house for, and thinking of telling him it was impolite to stare, when I recognised the house's owner.'

I laughed, and shook his hand again.

'Well Filippo, I am sure we shall be very pleased to offer you hospitality.'

'You are most kind.'

'We have annexed the whole place, but I daresay you will be able to find room somewhere. But come in.'

'Thanks,' I said, 'if you do not mind.'

I found Checco, Bartolomeo and his two sons sitting together. They jumped up when they saw me.