"What else?"
Silvestro grew hot--desperate. Why, after all, would one kill a Jew?
Something must be urged, something solid.
"There was Annina, you know," said Silvestro, at his wit's end.
"Annina--that girl you were with? What of her?" Castracane licked his
lips.
"Well, this Jew, you must understand, was a limber young fellow--"
"Young!" shouted the other. "You told me he had a great grey beard like
a goat."
"It wasn't very grey--not so grey as a goat's. Well, he was always
following Annina about, making her presents, cadging for favours.
Accidente! I couldn't stand it, you must know. So, thinking of Annina,
and of Gesù Cristo, and one thing and another, I decided to follow him
back to the Via Gatta--and so I did."