“Of course, dear Pepe, you will come back. I wrote to-day to your father, your excellent father,” exclaimed Doña Perfecta, with all the physiognomic signs that make their appearance when a tear is about to be shed.
“I will trouble you with a few commissions,” said the savant.
“A good opportunity to order the volume that is wanting in my copy of the Abbe Gaume’s work,” said the youthful lawyer.
“You take such sudden notions, Pepe; you are so full of caprices,” murmured Doña Perfecta, smiling, with her eyes fixed on the door of the dining-room. “But I forgot to tell you that Caballuco is waiting to speak to you.”
CHAPTER XV
DISCORD CONTINUES TO GROW UNTIL WAR IS DECLARED
Every one looked toward the door, at which appeared the imposing figure of the Centaur, serious-looking and frowning; embarrassed by his anxiety to salute the company politely; savagely handsome, but disfigured by the violence which he did himself in smiling civilly and treading softly and holding his herculean arms in a correct posture.
“Come in, Señor Ramos,” said Pepe Rey.
“No, no!” objected Doña Perfecta. “What he has to say to you is an absurdity.”