“Yes, take it, I do not want it.”
“Bravissimo! you are a brick; we can have the carriage—come on!”
Among the men stood ladies in couples, in groups, in dozens, waiting for the weather to clear. Up here every one was in a good-humour, laughing and jesting; for this class of spectators is not so seriously annoyed by a delay which to those below is a serious grievance. Indeed, the unforeseen has greater charms for them than a programme fulfilled; they have plenty of pleasures and a surprise or a little check has a certain relish. After all, the rain is not a serious evil to people who keep a carriage.
“How will those poor people from the open seats get on?” said a lady to her companion, as they came out of their box with an elderly man. “They are really almost justified in asking for their money back. They paid to see the bull-fight and not to get drenched. However, as it was for charity....”
The two ladies stopped to speak to one and another of their acquaintance.
“What fun! What an excitement! It is quite delightful! Where are you going now? What, are you wet?... They are asking for their money back, how glad Higadillos must have been—he was dying of fright.... It seems not to be raining so hard now, but the arena is flooded.... Well, I am going.” The speaker lightly laid her hand on the arm of a gentleman who was talking to some others; bankers, deputies and a minister or two.
“Are you coming to dinner?”
“With pleasure; but now? at once?—I have burnt my ships—that is to say I have sent away my carriage.”
“Then come with us,” said the lady taking the arm that Leon offered. “I have no patience to wait any longer.”
“But it is still pouring; you will have to wait at the entrance and the line of carriages will be a long one.”