“Very well.”
“And now, come up for a moment, do.”
“No, not now.” Roberto turned and left.
During the succeeding days Roberto visited the newly married couple, and chatted with them during the meal.
On the third day, between Bernardo and Manuel, they managed to photograph two servant girls who appeared at the studio. Roberto developed the plates, which, as luck would have it, came out well, and he continued visiting his friend’s home.
Bernardo resumed the life of his bachelor days, devoting himself to loafing and amusement. After a few days he failed to show up for lunch. He was absolutely without a glimmer of moral sentiment; he had noticed that his wife and Roberto had a liking for one another, and he imagined that Roberto, in order to be near the place and make love to his wife, would do the work in his stead. Provided that his father and he lived well, the rest did not matter to him.
When Roberto realized the scheme, he grew indignant.
“See here, listen to me,” he said. “Do you imagine I’m going to work here for you while you go idling around? Not a bit of it, my dear fellow!”
“I’m no good for working with these nasty chemicals,” replied Bernardo, sullenly. “I’m an artist.”
“What you are is a good-for-nothing imbecile.”