“Because I feel like it.”
“Suits me. Do as you please.”
For an appreciable period they sat there waiting, neither breaking the silence. La Justa, at last beyond her patience, got up.
“I’m going home,” she said.
“I’ll wait,” replied Manuel.
“Go ahead, then, and may they darn you with black thread, you thief.”
Manuel shrugged his shoulders.
“And give you blood pudding.”
“Thanks.”