The Apostle rose from his place amongst the gamblers. He was dead drunk and could hardly move; his eyes were viscous, like those of an angered animal; he staggered over to Leandro and took the glass, which trembled in his grasp; he brought it to his lips and gulped it down.
"Want more?" asked the gypsy.
"Sure, sure," he drooled.
Then he began to babble, showing the stumps of his yellow teeth, but nobody could understand a word; he drained the other glasses, rested his forehead against his hand and slowly made his way to a corner, into which he squatted, and then stretched himself out on the floor.
"Do you want me to tell your fortune, princess?" asked the gipsy of
Fanny, seizing her hand.
"No," replied the lady drily.
"Won't you give me a few coins for the churumbeles?"
"No."
"Wicked woman! Why won't you give me a few coins for the churumbeles?"
"What does churumbeles mean?" asked the lady.