“What I should have done,” cried the giant, waving his arms, “was to have given him a slap in the face.”
The thin young man answered with an expression of suavity and obsequiousness,—
“Disputes lead to nothings Senhor Correa.”
“The truth is, that I am too considerate,” yelled the giant; “and I do not forget that I have a wife and children.” And he went out, his hoarse voice lost in the noises of the street.
“Do you think it would be well to warn her?” said Sebastião, after a moment’s reflection.
Julião shrugged his shoulders, and puffed the smoke from his cigarette.
“Tell me,” said Sebastião in tones of entreaty, “will you go and speak to her?”
“I!” answered Julião, with a repellent expression on his countenance. “Are you mad?”
“But, in fine, what is your opinion?” There was something in Sebastião’s voice that bordered on anguish.
“Go you, if you wish. Tell her you have noticed—In truth, I don’t know—” And he began to bite the end of his cigarette.