bit of wood might save me a beating. It's to make up for the four sous I'm short."
"You'll have to pay. Each in his turn."
Mattia said this mechanically, as though the thought of the boy being punished gave him satisfaction. I was surprised to see a hard look come into his soft, sad eyes. I knew later that if you live with wicked people you get to be like them in time.
One by one the boys returned; each one as he came in hung his instrument on a nail above his bed. Those who were not musicians, but simply exhibitors of trained animals, put their mice and guinea pigs into a cage.
Then a heavy step sounded on the stairs and a little man wearing a gray overcoat came into the room. It was Garofoli. The moment he entered he fixed his eyes on me with a look that scared me. Mattia quickly and politely gave him Vitalis' message.
"Ah, so Vitalis is here," he said; "what does he want?"
"I don't know," replied Mattia.
"I'm not speaking to you, I'm speaking to this boy."
"He is coming back and he will tell you himself what he wants," I replied.
"Ah, here's a little fellow who knows the value of words. You're not Italian?"
"No, I'm French."
