“Girls,” said Tafetan, with smiling countenance, “there goes the orange-vender. Call him; I want to invite you to eat oranges.”
One of the girls called the orange-vender.
The conversation started by the Troyas displeased Pepe Rey not a little, dispelling the slight feeling of contentment which he had experienced at finding himself in such gay and communicative company. He could not, however, refrain from smiling when he saw Don Juan Tafetan take down a guitar and begin to play upon it with all the grace and skill of his youthful years.
“I have been told that you sing beautifully,” said Rey to the girls.
“Let Don Juan Tafetan sing.”
“I don’t sing.”
“Nor I,” said the second of the girls, offering the engineer some pieces of the skin of the orange she had just peeled.
“Maria Juana, don’t leave your sewing,” said the eldest of the Troyas. “It is late, and the cassock must be finished to-night.”
“There is to be no work to-day. To the devil with the needles!” exclaimed Tafetan.
And he began to sing a song.