Pilar backed into the room. She looked like a scared little rabbit. What did he want? Had he come to take her castanets?
"Ah, yes, you are the Señorita Pilar," continued the gentleman. He came into the room, closed the door behind him, and sat down calmly.
"And this, I believe, is señor, your grandfather. No?" He smiled at the old man, who lay quietly in his bed. "You see, I found out all about you, señorita. After you ran away from me in the garden, I made up my mind to follow you, and I did."
Suddenly Pilar's eyes flashed angrily.
"You cannot have the castanets!" she cried.
She was standing in the center of the room, and her face was white with fury. Her small body was drawn up, rigid and tense.
"I'll never let you have them!" she screamed. "They're mine! Mine! Mine!"
She stamped her foot and threw back her head. But the tall gentleman did not seem in the least disturbed. He just sat there looking at her and smiling as if he were watching a play.
Indeed, one had the impression that he might begin to clap at any moment. But he did not.
Instead, he just laughed good-naturedly and said, "What a little firecracker you are! And how graceful, too! Now, listen, child."