I could have gone about the streets with pleasure until time for dinner, but Sabas felt himself in duty bound to invite me to take an appetizer, and we entered a café in the Plaza de la Reina.
While sipping a glass of vermouth Sabas showed himself loquacious and expansive, but without losing his natural gravity. He talked to me about his family and friends. I saw at once that he had an analytical temperament of the first rank, clear perceptions, and a keen instinct for seeing the weak side of people and things.
His sister was a discreet woman, affectionate, of upright and noble intentions—but her character was excessively difficult; she enjoyed opposing people; at times she lacked courtesy; she was wanting in docility, in a certain meekness absolutely essential in a woman; lastly, although really generous, she did not make herself liked.
I should have enjoyed protesting against this absurd summing up. It was precisely these qualities of her character, at once timid and resolute, and her coldness a bit harsh, that made me more in love than ever. I abstained, however, for prudential reasons, from speaking.
His brother-in-law was, poor fellow, an industrious man, generous, intelligent in business—but absolutely incapable, as everybody knew. All the world imposed upon him and used him. He was of a temperament so volatile that as soon as he had undertaken one project he was tired of it, and thinking of another. This had made him lose a great deal of money. He could not tell how many enterprises Martí had engaged in. Some of them would have been very successful if he had stayed in them; but he scarcely encountered the first difficulties in them before he threw them aside, abandoned them. He had only shown himself persistent where it was absolutely useless—in the matter of the artesian wells. What a lot of money the man had already carried off and buried in that wretched business! The one thing that had really turned out well had been the steamboats, and these he did not start, but inherited them from his father.
His friend Castell possessed great learning, expressed himself admirably, and was immensely rich—but had not a scrap of heart. He had never shown any affection for anybody. Emilio was mistaken through and through in thinking that he returned the passionate, fervent adoration that he felt for him.
"But do not touch upon this point when you are again with him, as I have tried it several times. Whenever the conversation brings in the name of Castell it is necessary to open the mouth, roll up the eyes to their whites, and fall into an ecstasy, as if one beheld a divinity of Olympus. Castell knows this weakness of my brother-in-law, approves of it, and gives himself airs over it. For the rest, on the day when he has any need of him, he will see how the matter stands then."
"But Martí told me that he finds money for him when he needs it in his business," I put in.
"Yes, yes," he agreed with his sarcastic smile; "I do not doubt that he finds money for him, but everybody in Valencia knows the meaning of that."
I asked no questions. Having been admitted into the intimacy of the family, I would not prompt him. Sabas went on: