Engracia and La Rabanitos conceived a violent hatred for the lass.
"That strumpet?" La Rabanitos would say. "Why, she's already as disreputable as us…."
One night Vidal did not put in his usual appearance at Casa Blanca, and two or three days later he showed up at the Puerta del Sol with a tall, buxom woman garbed in grey.
"Who's that?" asked Manuel of his cousin.
"Her name's Violeta; I've taken up with her."
"And the other one, at Casa Blanca?"
Vidal shrugged his shoulders.
"You can have her if you wish," he said.
Vidal's former sweetheart likewise disappeared from Casa Blanca and, after he had been unable to collect the two weeks' rent, the administrator put Manuel out into the street and sold the furnishings: a few empty bottles, a stew-pot and a bed.
For several days Manuel slept upon the benches of the Plaza de Oriente and on the chairs of La Castellana and Recoletos. It was getting toward the end of summer and he could still sleep in the open. A few céntimos that he earned by carrying valises from the stations helped him to exist, though badly, until October.