“The next day, when I got up, my man says to me: ‘Go on and bring the money you’ve got with you, and we’ll eat right here.’ I answered that there was nothing doing. Then another guy showed up and took us through the house; it was rigged up fine, with sofas and mirrors. He offered us some whisky and cake, and invited us to remain there. I didn’t want to take anything, and left the place. The other girl gave every peseta she had to her man, and stayed. Afterward that guy took everything she earned and beat her into the bargain.”
“And is your companion still living at that house?” asked Vidal.
“No. They transferred her to a house in Lisbon for forty-five dollars.”
“Why did she go?”
La Aragonesa shrugged her shoulders.
“The fact is that the women in this business are beastly stupid,” said Vidal. “They have no sense, they don’t know their rights, nor nothing.”
“And how about you?” asked Calatrava of La Justa.
The girl shrugged her shoulders but did not part her lips.
“She must be some Russian princess,” snarled La Flora.
“Not a bit of it,” retorted La Justa dryly. “I’m just what you are. A common woman.”