"Fate largo a Fra Paolo," they called in
the Merceria if the people pressed him too closely--"Make way for Fra
Paolo!"--and a strange youthfulness, as of satisfied affections, was
beginning to grow upon his calm face. He had had no cravings, feeling
that duty sufficed; yet, through this absolute yielding of himself to
express the message with which his life was charged, his heart had
warmed within him, and now, unsought, the people loved him, magnifying
the interest of every minor happening of his life and zealously
gathering anecdotes of the days before he was great.
A group of his brother friars were strolling back and forth under the
fretted colonnades of the greater court of the Servi one evening before
vespers, a glow of relish on their genial, cowled faces, rehearsing the
tale of Fra Paolo's unconventional slippers; for it was the hour of
small gossip, and the day had been warm.
"They were scarlet, like an eminence's," explained Fra Giulio, who had
secured this choice bit for the entertainment of his special cronies;
"for all colors are one to Fra Paolo, who hath no distinction for
trifles.
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