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Updated: May 25, 2025
For, as he mounted the narrow stair cut between old houses steep as rocks, he turned and saw Zoppa placidly smoking his pipe in the very spot he had held, squatted on the fountain-rim with his green umbrella between his knees. He was beaming through his spectacles, in a fatherly, indulgent sort of way, upon the shouting people; following the race too, like one who had paid for his box.
Yet he had not moved from his careless attitude of ease on the fountain-rim; the little conical golden weapon dangled untouched at his belt. Elza was frightened. "Jac! You must do what he says. I'm not afraid." Again Tarrano was smiling. "No of course not." His gaze went to Georg. "You are her brother your fear is very natural.
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