Don Lorenzo. [In a heavy sombre tone.] Yes.
Benito. They say he strangled a poor old woman. [Don Lorenzo recoils in horror, and covers his face with his hands.]
Braulio. There's a fellow for you! A good beginning—that's clear enough. It's always the same thing. The family——
Don Lorenzo. The family! [Removes his hands from his face, walks a few steps as if shaken by an electric shock, and stares at them with keen anxiety, speaking in the same dead voice.]
Braulio. Yes, the family—'tis natural enough.—Don't they say he wanted to give all his fortune away? ever so many millions. The devil of a lunatic altogether. Nothing else for it but what has been decided—to pack him off. We take him away and the poor ladies are left in peace.
Don Lorenzo. I!—they?—Ángela?—Inés—no, no—not possible. [Recoils again R.]
Braulio. [Staring after him. Aside.] What's the matter with the gentleman? [To Benito.] Look at him, look. [Both keepers draw together and bend forward in direction R. looking curiously at Don Lorenzo. This group should be made important.]
Don Lorenzo. Air, light! No, not light—darkness! I do not want to see. I do not want to think. [Falls into arm-chair and lets his head drop into his palms.]
Benito. I say, I believe that's——
Braulio. This is a fine fix.