Like a child, Costantino was pretending to be good so as to get what he wanted. What he wanted was cruel, brutal news. That Brontu had beaten Giovanna or that something bad had happened to her, or that the Dejas’ household had suffered a serious calamity. So he was not particularly interested when Mattea winked and said, ‘Someone stole their cattle. When they found out, the old woman rushed off like a mad thing to see what the damage was. She’s going to spend the night in the sheepfold so his wife will be alone. Do you understand? All alone.’

‘What do I care?’ he said. But he felt the blood sing in his ears at the thought that Giovanna herself might have sent Mattea.

‘You could go to her house, you fool. I came to tell you. Go on, do me a favour; I’m sorry for you. After all, you’re her husband.’

‘I’m not married to anyone,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I thought you were going to tell me something quite different. So what do you want me to buy? Beans, milk, bacon, cherries?’

‘Marry me, then, if you’re not married to anyone,’ Mattea said, in her rough, shaky, drunkard’s voice.

Costantino cleared his throat and spat. The girl’s usually vacant eyes took on a gleam of intelligence. She wrinkled her forehead.

‘Why are you spitting?’ she asked. ‘Is Giovanna better than me?’

He blushed, then a sadness came over him. ‘You!’ he said. ‘You may be better or you may be worse.’

‘What?’

‘If you aren’t lying right now, if you didn’t come to hurt me by telling me that she’s alone, then you’re better than she.’

‘Why should I want to hurt you? I’m sorry for you. I swear on the memory of the departed dead that if you go to her tonight you’ll run no risk.’

‘How can I believe you, woman? You don’t even have respect for the dead.’

Offended and indignant, Mattea got up to leave. He stopped her.

‘Filthy dog,’ she said scornfully. ‘I was sorry for you, and you’re rude to me. What have I done to you?’

She raised her head proudly, showing her creased forehead. Her eyes were newly full of intelligence. He looked at her, astonished that such a woman could speak in such a way, that she could raise her head and look at him so proudly. Then he burst out laughing.

‘I’m going now,’ he repeated. ‘I’ll be back straightaway. I’ll bring wine too, even if you don’t drink. Wait for me. Wait!’ he ordered sharply, for Mattea was following him. ‘And don’t pester me.’