Darlés ventured to say with some timidity:
"What's the reason you're put out to-day?"
"I don't know."
"What?"
"It's true. Unless it might be——"
She stopped, inwardly searching her thoughts, then went on:
"It's because you're very young that my words astonish you. Sometime you'll be older, and then you'll understand the world better. You'll know the cause of all these little vexations that embitter life can't be found in concrete facts. We have to recognize such vexations as the total, the corollary of our whole history, of everything we've lived through. For example, we're sad now because we were sad before, or maybe gay. In to-day's tears you'll find the bitter-aloes of the tears of long ago; and there's the weariness of dead laughter there, too. Understand? Don't wonder, therefore, that you can't comprehend exactly why I'm in such a bad temper, to-day."
She grew quiet, sinking down into a brown study that drew a vertical line upon her pretty brow. Then she asked:
"Do you often go through Calle Mayor?"
"Yes. Why?"