In the first excitement at the end of July, it happened that I saw both women on the same day.
“You will see,” said the first woman, resting a careless hand on my shoulder, during the tango “you will see that the common people will sabotage the mobilization. These fellows are rebels. Sooner than fight they will surrender to William.”
To one of my subsequent questions she replied haughtily:
“My husband? My husband? What are you talking about? All the same they will not have the audacity to call out men of thirty-five!”
And, after a silence:
“I do not expect to lose him. We should go to the country.”
The tango was finished without another word.
That same evening the stenographer brought me some pages. She was flushed, and her eyes flamed. I counted the pages carefully and paid her. Without looking, she pocketed the money, and remained standing, trembling. I was careful not to say a word.
“And you?” she said at last. “Would you go?”
“Certainly!”