“You’ll always remember your protector?”
“Always.”
“My son, preserve that filial piety. For a protector such as I is almost like a father. He is ... I was about to say, the arm of Providence. I feel deeply moved.... I am no longer young. Have you, by any chance, a few coins in your pocket?”
“No.”
“That’s too bad,” and Mingote, after a sweep with his cane, left the house.
Manuel closed the door and returned to the room on tip-toe.
“Chucha! Chucha!” called the baroness. And when the mulattress appeared who had opened the door to Mingote and Manuel, the baroness said to her:
“See. This is the boy.”
“Jesu! Jesu!” shrieked the servant. “He’s a ragamuffin! Whatever put it into madame’s head to bring such a tramp into the house?”