“Allow me to have a seat. I am weary,” murmured Peñalar in a frail voice. “Is any one within hearing?”
Don Sergio glared at him like a hyena. Peñalar passed his riddled handkerchief across his broad forehead; then, turning to Manuel, who was still regarding the scene in complete amazement, he said to him:
“Please, my dear child, leave us alone for a moment and wait for me outside.”
Manuel opened the office door and walked out into the shop. This manœuvre caused Don Sergio to start back in bewilderment.
“I, my worthy sir,” said Peñalar, as soon as he found himself alone with the merchant, “am dedicated to the education of youth.”
“You’re a schoolmaster? So I’ve already heard.”
“I was acting as examiner in the Colegio del Espíritu Santo, when it occurred to me to go into business on my own account.”
“And you lost money. Very well. But how does all this concern me?” shrilled Don Sergio, pounding upon the table with a book.
“I crave your pardon. Among my pupils I have this boy who has just left us. He is a prodigy, a youngster of extraordinary talents. When I saw how bright he was, how determined, I conceived an interest in him; I inquired about his family, and was told that he had neither father nor mother, and had been taken into a certain lady’s home.”
“Well, what has all this got to do with me?”