"As if we did not all know you, you old rascal! You would live in the way you are talking about a fortnight perhaps. At the end of that time you would be so bored with your cage, with lovely hands, and canary seed that you would throw it all over."
Castell protested against this judgment, declaring that fickleness in love depends not so much upon the temperament and its changes as upon the vague but pressing necessity that we all feel to seek for the being who can respond to our inmost sentiments, our most intimate aspirations, our secret longings; or, to speak in more prosaic words, although less clear also, those that adapt themselves exactly to our physical and moral individuality.
"I have not found—like you," he concluded daringly, "among so many women, the one who meets all the necessities of my being, many of them unimportant perhaps, but none the less existent. If, like you, or before you" (he uttered these words in a peculiar manner), "I had chanced upon her, then certainly my career of gallantry had ended, and you would have had no cause to call me, as now, an old rascal."
His attitude, his accents, and the furtive glances that the rich ship-owner cast from time to time upon Cristina while he was talking, confirmed me in the suspicion that I had conceived, whereof I have not before had occasion to speak, that this gentleman was paying court to the wife of his intimate friend and associate.
The effect of this dawning suspicion upon me was deplorable. I already hated my rival; now to myself I called him false friend, traitor, double-faced! But at the same time a voice cried out in my conscience that I, though a new friend, was not perceptibly better. This voice distressed me indescribably.
The talk went on, and Castell found occasion to say all he chose to Cristina, as if nobody but herself could hear. His well-chosen words admirably fitted the gestures, quick and speaking, wherewith he emphasized them. Cristina talked with her mother, but by her evident agitation and by the cloud of vexation which darkened her face I guessed that she was listening to what Castell said, and that it was not to her liking. In that moment, with a frown upon her forehead and a proud expression in her eyes, she seemed to me more adorable than ever.
Retamoso, with his hat already on his head, came up to Castell, and bending as if to speak in his ear, but in reality talking loud enough to be heard by his wife, said in his attractive Galician accent:
"Señor Castell, you are in the right—like a saint! The question hits the mark, hits the mark. If I had not had such good judgment in choosing a companion, what would have become of me, poor fellow! What a darling!—eh? What a treasure! Ssh! silence, keep the secret for the present, but I wouldn't have had two pesetas. Silence, ssh!"
And arching his eyebrows and making up faces expressive of admiration and restrained bliss, he moved away, shuffling his feet. His beloved better half, who had heard perfectly well, gave him a sidewise look which was not shining with gratitude, and turning up her hawk's nose, she said good-night to us with imposing severity.
We were now all standing up and preparing to seat ourselves at the table. Martí, observing that his piece of bread was a little broken, exclaimed jestingly: