Manuel, convinced that the nest was not empty, took to flight. He sought shelter in a doorway that was somewhat protected from the rain and huddled down to sleep.
It was still night when he awoke shivering with the cold, trembling from head to foot. He started to run so as to warm himself; he reached the Paseo de Rosales and strode up and down several times.
It seemed that the night would never end.
The rain ceased; the sun came out in the morning; Manuel took refuge in a hollow on the slope of the embankment. The sun began to warm him most deliciously. Manuel dreamed of a very white, exceedingly beautiful woman with golden tresses. Frozen almost to death, he drew near the lady, and she wrapped him in her golden strands and he nestled tenderly, ever so tenderly in her lap….
CHAPTER VI
Señor Custodio and His Establishment—The Free Life.
… And he was in the midst of the most ravishing dreams when a harsh voice recalled him to the bitter, impure realities of existence.
"What are you doing there, loafer?" some one was asking him.
"I!" mumbled Manuel, opening his eyes and staring at his questioner.
"I'm not doing anything."
"Yes, I can see that. I can see that."