"Come out into the garden," said Marietta. "Do you need Zorzi just now?"
she asked, turning to her father, who only shook his head by way of
answer, for he was very busy.

"But I assure you that I am not too hot," answered Zorzi. "Why should I
go out?"

"Because I want you to fasten up one of the branches of the red rose. It
catches in my skirt every time I pass. You will need a hammer and a
little nail."

She had not been thinking of his comfort after all, thought Zorzi as he
got the hammer. She had only wanted something done for herself. He might
have known it. But for the rose that caught in her skirt, he might have
roasted alive at the furnace before she would have noticed that he was
hot. He followed her out. She led him to the end of the walk farthest
from the door of the laboratory; the sun was low and all the little
garden was in deep shade. A branch of the rose-bush lay across the path,
and Zorzi thought it looked very much as if it had been pulled down on
purpose. She pointed to it, and as he carefully lifted it from the
ground she spoke quickly, in a low tone.

"What was my father saying to you a while ago?" she asked.

Zorzi held up the branch in his hand, ready to fasten it against the
wall, and looked at her. He saw at a glance that she had brought him out
to ask the question.

"The master was giving me certain orders," he said.