“How much I am going to pay?” repeated the young man without being able to conceal a bored expression. “We will talk that over. Come back this afternoon, for I am busy to-day.”
“Only tell me how much you are going to pay,” insisted Lucas.
“I have told you that we would talk about that some other time. I’m too busy to-day,” said Ibarra, impatiently.
“You haven’t time now, señor?” asked Lucas with bitterness and putting himself in front of the young man. “You do not have time to occupy yourself about the dead?”
“Come this afternoon, my good fellow!” repeated Ibarra, restraining himself. “To-day I have to go and see a sick person.”
“Ah! and you forget the dead for a sick person? Do you think that because we are poor——”
Ibarra looked at him and cut off what he was saying.
“Don’t try my patience!” said he, and went on his way. Lucas stood looking at him, with a smile on his face, full of hatred.
“You do not know that you are a grandson of the man who exposed my father to the sun!” he muttered between his teeth. “You have the very same blood in your veins!”
And, changing his tone he added: