"I can imagine them."
"You cannot possibly imagine them."
"But then, my dear, it would be a great joy to me, to see my children friends once more," said the gentle Mariana, in her slow, drawling, lethargic way. "There is nothing more odious than a quarrelsome couple."
"And to me, too—when the scene is over," replied Pepa, exchanging smiles with Cobo Ramirez and Pinedo.
"How gladly would I make friends with you, Mariana, on the same terms," said the insinuating general, in a low voice, taking advantage of a moment when Calderón's wife stooped down to stir the fire with an enamelled iron poker. At the same time, as if he wished to take it from her, and save her the trouble, the General's fingers were laid on the lady's, and without exceeding the truth, may be said to have lightly pressed them.
"Make friends?" said she, in her usual voice. "But first we should have to quarrel, and thank God we have not done that."
The old beau did not venture to reply; he laughed awkwardly with an uneasy glance at Calderón. If he persisted, this simpleton was capable of repeating aloud the audacious speech he had just made.
"Of course," Pepa went on, "I interfere as little as possible in their disputes. I hardly ever go to their house even—Pah! I loathe playing the part of mother-in-law."
"Well, Pepa, I only wish you were my mother-in-law," said Cobo, with a meaning look into her eyes.
"Good! I will tell my daughter; she will be much flattered."