human
You must dress yourself, Signore,
gpt
What is the matter?
human
The matter is that they have killed Sor Tommaso,
gpt
It is as I say, continued Stefanone.
human
They found him lying across the way, in the street, with knife-wounds in him, as many as you please.
gpt
That is horrible!
human
Then dress yourself, Signore! said Stefanone, impatiently.
gpt
You must come!
human
Why? If he is dead, what can I do? asked the northern man, coolly.
gpt
I am sorry. What more can I say?
human
But he is not dead yet! Stefanone was growing excited.
gpt
They have taken him--
human
Oh! he is alive, is he? interrupted the Scotchman, dashing at his clothes, as though he were suddenly galvanized into life himself.
gpt
Then why did you tell me they had killed him? he asked, with a curious, dry calmness of voice, as he instantly began to dress himself.
human
Get some clean linen, Signor Stefano. Tear it up into strips as broad as your hand, for bandages, and set the women to make a little lint of old linen--cotton is not good. Where have they taken Sor Tommaso?
gpt
To his own house,
human
So much the better. Go and make the bandages.