"All this is very well, Ribot," declared Doña Amparo, emotionally sniffing her smelling-salts, "but this does not hinder you from being on fire, mad, lost, for my daughter."
"You deceive yourself, señora. I assure you that you——"
"Come, confess yourself," she said, putting one hand on my shoulder, and looking at me with a smilingly mischievous face: "nobody can hear."
"Señora, for God's sake!"
"Confess, sinner! Confess yourself!" and she gave a gentle and affectionate little pull at my beard.
I was terrified, dreading something decidedly unpleasant.
"Let us keep the secret between us two. You are in love with Cristina, as Castell has been for some time."
"Enough of this!" I said, trying to find a way to escape.
"He is a much worse rake, and, between the two, frankly I prefer you."
I was stupefied. What was it that this señora preferred? Why was she talking to me in this manner? Where was she going to stop?