“Let’s go,” said Quentin. “He’ll be giving us a great drubbing.”
They got up, and the innkeeper lighted their way to the street door with a small lamp. They walked together as far as El Gran Capitán; Cornejo, Bocanegra and Pacheco turned in the direction of Los Tejares; Quentin and the Swiss went down the Calle de Gondomar.
“But what do you expect of those people?” Springer asked presently.
“I! I don’t know, my boy; now—to be strong, ... later—we shall see.”
“Do you read Machiavelli?”
“You are an extraordinary man, Quentin.”
“Bah!”
“Really. A type worth studying.”
“Well, look here, if you wish to study me, go to the Café del Recreo some night. There you’ll meet the girl that’s living with me.”