I ran away to prepare the tea. The situation was too much for me.
‘My poor Diaz!’ I said, when we had begun to drink the tea, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes full of sleep, his chin rough, and his hair magnificently disarranged, ‘you did one thing that was silly last night.’
‘Don’t tell me I struck you?’ he cried.
‘Oh no!’ and I laughed. ‘Can’t you guess what I mean?’
‘You mean I got vilely drunk.’
I nodded.
‘Magda,’ he burst out passionately, seeming at this point fully to arouse himself, to resume acutely his consciousness, ‘why were you late? You said four o’clock. I thought you had deceived me. I thought I had disgusted you, and that you didn’t mean to return. I waited more than an hour and a quarter, and then I went out in despair.’
‘But I came just afterwards,’ I protested. ‘You had only to wait a few more minutes. Surely you could have waited a few more minutes?’
‘You said four o’clock,’ he repeated obstinately.
‘It was barely half-past five when I came,’ I said.