“I tell you it is not good, and you reply that you want to know it better. Ah!” Ubertino said, shaking his head. “By the way,” William said, already halfway down the nave, “who is that monk who looks like an animal and speaks the language of Babel?” “Salvatore?” Ubertino, who had already knelt down, turned. “I believe he was a gift of mine to this abbey . . . along with the cellarer.
