"Let not that pain you, Mayorica; with my arms I did not give my heart to that peasant girl, Aldonza; I keep it always for you."
"Be off, traitor! your ridiculous excuses enrage me more than they appease me. Depart from me, and never, as long as you live, dare to look on me again with eyes of affection."
It appeared to Fernan that the anger of Mayorica was lasting much too long; thus it was that, his patience failing him, he determined to make use of his arithmetical argument, and if he could not succeed in convincing her with it, to renounce the attempt, and even, if necessary, his love itself.
"Well, then," he said, "I am fond of Aldonza, but, I swear to you, of no other but you and her. I have told you a thousand times that, according to my calculations, there are two women in Spain for every man. Is it not nonsense, then, to blame me for only claiming what belongs to me, when I go no farther?"
"Be off with you, shameless wretch!" exclaimed Mayorica, at the height of her exasperation.
"Yes, and at once," said Fernan; "for Aldonza is awaiting me, in order to repay with interest the embrace I gave her."
Saying this, he quitted the chamber of Mayorica and went off to his own, muttering on his way—
"By the soul of Beelzebub, how this nonsense, this obstinacy, this absurdity of women, makes my blood boil! I will rest myself to-night, for I need to do so, and to-morrow I will compensate myself with Aldonza for the ingratitude of Mayorica. That girl is affectionate and not cross and quarrelsome, like the vixen I have just left."