"Eat your own," said Nanna to the girl.

She suspected that Regina might have eaten the beans meant for Marcello,
but her doubt vanished as she saw how the hungry young thing devoured
her own portion.

"Are there any more left?" Regina asked when she had finished, for she
understood perfectly what was going on in the minds of the other two.

She looked into the earthen cooking-pot which now stood on the corner of
the hearth.

"Not even the smell of any more," answered Nanna. "There is bread."

Regina's white teeth crushed the hard brown crust as if she had not
eaten for a week. There could be no doubt but that the sick boy had
eaten the beans; and beans, especially white ones, are not good for
people who have the fever, as Nanna had justly observed.

"On Sunday he shall have a dish of liver and cabbage," she said, in a
cheerful tone. "There is much strength in liver, and cabbage is good for
the blood. I shall take it to him myself, for it will be a pleasure to
see him eat."

"The beans were soon finished," said Regina, with perfect truth.

"I told you how it would be," Paoluccio answered.

But Regina knew that the time had come to get Marcello away from the inn