CHAPTER II.
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EANWHILE Joconda Romanelli, the woman who had had the courage to speak a bold word for his sake, left the town to itself and prepared to return on her homeward way to her village of Santa Tarsilla, a long way off upon the coast, a low-lying sickly sea-shore place.
Twice a year regularly she yoked her mule to her cart and drove into Grosseto, making a two days' journey on the road each way, on purpose to sell the homespun linen she had woven from thread she had spun in the six months' time. She knew a hosier in Grosseto who only sold 'nostrali' linen, and gave her a fair price for hers at spring and autumn. She thought him honester than Orbetello folk, so made the longer drive across the wild and lonely country.
