"I'll wind up by doing something desperate. Take my word for it," muttered Leandro.
Neither spoke. They entered La Corrala, climbed up the stairways and walked into Leandro's house. They brought out supper, but Leandro didn't eat; he drank three glasses of water in succession and went out to the gallery.
Manuel was about to leave after supper, when he heard Leandro call him several times.
"What do you want?"
"Come on, let's be going."
Manuel ran out to the balcony; Milagros and her mother, from their door, were heaping insults upon Leandro.
"Outcast! Blackguard!" the proof-reader's wife was shouting. "If her father were here you wouldn't talk like that."
"I would, too, even if her grandfather were here," exclaimed Leandro, with a savage laugh. "Come on, let's be off," he added, turning to Manuel. "I'm sick and tired of these whores."
They left the gallery and were soon out of El Corralón.
"What was the matter?'" asked Manuel.