“Just imagine the poor creature sleeping on the mat while La Sinfo and Jesús lay in bed!” exclaimed one.
And higher and higher rose the indignation against La Sinfo, that shameless street-walker, whom they vowed to give an unmerciful drubbing. Señora Salomona had to interrupt their chatter, for it kept the woman in childbed awake.
La Sinfo must have suspected something, for she did not show up at the hostelry. Jesús, frowning glumly, his cheeks aflame and his eyes aglitter, went on the following days from house to shop without a word. Manuel had a notion that the young man was in love with his sister.
During the period of her confinement the neighbours took affectionate care of La Fea. They demanded every céntimo of Jesús’s pay, and he surrendered it without any resistance whatsoever.
The newborn child, emaciated and hydrocephalic, died within a week.
La Sinforosa never appeared there again. According to gossip she had gone into the profession.
The day before Christmas, toward evening, three gentleman dressed in black came to the place. One was a diminutive old fellow with white moustaches and merry eyes; the second was a stiff gentleman with a greying beard and gold-rimmed spectacles; the other appeared to be a secretary or a clerk, and was short, with black moustaches, burdened with documents and tapping his heels as he walked. It was said that they came from La Conferencia de San Vicente de Paul; they visited Jesús’ sister and other persons who lived in the nooks and crannies of the house.
Behind these gentlemen attired in black went Manuel and Jesús, who only slept at the hostelry and did not know the neighbourhood, so that they walked about their own place as strangers.
“Hypocrites!” cried the mason at the top of his voice.