Several ragamuffins sprawled themselves out on the clearing near Manuel and Roberto, and the student did not care to go on with his tale.
"They've already begun to split up into divisions," said one of the loafers who wore a coachman's hat, pointing with a stick to the women inside the courtyard of La Doctrina.
And so it was; groups were clustering about the trees of the patio, on each of which was hung a poster with a picture and a number in the middle.
"There go the marchionesses," added he of the coachman's hat, indicating several women garbed in black who had just appeared in the courtyard.
The white faces stood out amidst the mourning clothes.
"They're all marchionesses," said one.
"Well, they're not all beauties," retorted Manuel, joining the conversation. "What have they come here for?"
"They're the ones who teach religion," answered the fellow with the hat. "From time to time they hand out sheets and underwear to the women and the men. Now they're going to call the roll."
A bell began to clang; the gate closed; groups were formed, and a lady entered the midst of each.
"Do you see that one there?" asked Roberto. "She's Don Telmo's niece."