"Any woman would, I should think." "I suppose so," answered Contarini complacently.

"It is not my fault if they do." "Nor your misfortune," added Fosoari, with as much gravity as before.
Zuan Venier had not joined in the banter, which seemed to him to be of the most atrocious taste.

He had liked Zorzi and had just made up his mind to go to Murano the next day and find him out.
On that evening there was not so much as a mention of what was supposed to bring them together.

Before they had talked a quarter of an hour, some one began to throw dice on the table, playing with his right hand against his left, and in a few moments the real play had begun.
High up in Arisa's room the Georgian woman and Aristarchi heard all that was said, crouching together upon the floor beside the opening the slave had discovered.

When the voices were no longer heard except at rare intervals, in short exclamations of satisfaction or disappointment, and only the regular rattling and falling of the dice broke the silence, the pair drew back from the praying-stool.
"They will say nothing more to-night," whispered Arisa.