He brought out from the breast of his shirt a little case, and in the case was a necklace made of that fine gold, lavorato a sfoglua, for which Sicilian goldsmiths are still famous as they were in the old Greek days.
She looked at it with a smile.
'It is pretty. You will give it to your dama.'
'I brought it for you,' he said, with the timidity of true love making his voice tremble and his brown hand shake.
'For me! Ah, I am not like Saturnino of Santa Fiora. I care nothing for trinkets. Go you back with it to your island and give it there to some one who will smile at you. As for me, I have no time to idle with you; I am going home———'
'You will not take it?'
'Certainly I will not.'
He threw the case, with the necklace in it, by a sweep of his arm far out into the sea.
The kingfisher, startled at the splash, rose and took wing regretfully.
'The sea has enough treasure without yours,' said Musa with indifference. 'You scared the bird———'
