Before this invincible reason I grew serious, and a sigh escaped me. Dame Ramona went off in a fresh fit of laughter, followed by a corresponding attack of asthmatic coughing. When at last she recovered herself she finished washing the glass in her hands, and called to three or four sailors chatting in a corner:
"Come, up with you! I am going to lock up."
One of them ventured to say:
"Wait a bit, Dame Ramona. We'll go when that gentleman does."
The hostess, frowning grimly, volunteered in solemn accents:
"This gentleman has come to eat some stewed tripe, and the table is set for him."
Thereupon the customers, feeling the weight of this hint, and comprehending the gravity of the occasion, lost no time in rising to depart. Gazing at me for an instant with a mixture of respect and admiration they went out, wishing us good-night.
"Well, Don Julian!" exclaimed Dame Ramona, her face brightening again, "that tripe of yesterday fairly was of a kind to make one's mouth water with delight."
My face must have expressed the most profound despair.
"And that of to-day—won't it do anything?" I inquired in tones of woe.