I said, “But I insist on knowing....”
The clerk said, “In good time....” And then, in the same tone of disinterested official routine, he spoke to the Lugareño, who, from beside the door, rolled very frightened eyes from the judges and the clerk to myself and the soldiers—“Advance.”
The judge, in a hurried, perfunctory voice, put questions to the Lugareño; the clerk scratched with a large quill on a sheet of paper.
“Where do you come from?”
“The town of Rio Medio, Excellency.”
“Of what occupation?”
“Excellency—a few goats....”
“Why are you here?”
“My daughter, Excellency, married Pepe of the posada in the Calle....”
The judge said, “Yes, yes,” with an unsanguine impatience. The Lugareño’s dirty hands jumped nervously on the large rim of his limp hat.