They burst into the room; the five or six women who were all that Santa Tarsilla held in summer-time, a little sickly child or two between them; old Andreino was a little way behind.
'My dear one,' he said, with a hand to his eyes, 'if any love can be of use to you, I and my Serafina too———'
'You can have nothing ready in the house. Come and break your fast with us, Musa mine,' said the foremost woman, ruthlessly drowning the rest of his phrases with her own shrill tones, to be in turn swamped in a neighbour's fuller voice that cried:
'Not a wink of sleep have I had this night, thinking of the good soul gone to her rest; neither have you closed your eyes, my dear; that one sees without asking. I have brought a fresh egg———'
'Addle your eggs!' cried a third, elbowing her away with scorn; though, indeed, eggs were rare as roses on the sad seashore. 'Let the girl come and take bit and sup with one who can be as a mother to her. How should she dwell alone and fare and cook for herself? My man has just brought in some fine fresh crayfish———'
