They were silent for a moment; the dispute in the billiard-room grew more violent.
“But what have the neighbors to do with it?” said Julião.
“They have this to do with it. They see the young man entering the house. He goes there in a carriage, and attracts the attention of the neighborhood. They have been gossiping about it already, and have gone with their stories to Aunt Joanna. Some days since I met Netto, who had observed it, and Correa also. Nothing takes place in that house which the furniture-dealer does not notice and talk about; they have dreadful tongues. Yesterday I went out to take a walk, and I met the cousin getting out of his carriage at the door. Immediately every tongue in the street was set going; every eye was on the watch. He goes there every day. They know that Jorge is in Alemtejo. He remains there two or three hours. It is a serious business,—a very serious business.”
“But is she mad?”
“No; but she sees nothing bad in all this.”
Julião shrugged his shoulders.
The door of the billiard-room opened; a man of tall stature, with a heavy black mustache, came out abruptly, much excited, and, pausing on the threshold, cried out to some one within,—
“Do not forget that I am at your service whenever you please!”
A hoarse voice responded from the billiard-room with an obscene expression.
The gigantic individual shut the door furiously, and passed through the café, muttering to himself. A thin young man, in a winter overcoat and white trousers, followed him, staggering.