CHAPTER VI
The Snow—More Tales From Don Alonso—Las Injurias—The Asilo del Sur
Manuel slept like a log the whole of the following morning. Indeed, when he got up it was past three in the afternoon.
He knocked at Jesús’s door. La Fea was at the machine and La Salvadora was sitting in a tiny chair ripping some skirts; the tot was playing on the floor.
“Where’s Jesús?” asked Manuel.
“I guess you know better than we do,” retorted La Salvadora, her voice quivering with anger.
“I ... left him ...; then I met a friend....” Manuel forced himself to invent a lie. “Perhaps he’s at the shop,” he added.
“No. He’s not at the printing shop,” replied La Salvadora.
“I’ll go look for him.”
Manuel left the hostelry of Santa Casilda in shame. He walked toward the heart of the city and asked for his friend at the tavern on the Calle de Tetuán.