Manuel could not understand how this could be so unusual for the baroness, and was quite astonished to hear her reply to Niña Chucha’s recriminations, stammering and laughing at the top of her voice in a most incoherent manner. Manuel would have sworn that, as she left the dining-room, the baroness stumbled, but he was so sleepy that he was not certain, and he refrained from comment.
On the following day, just before lunch, Niña Chucha was in the street when there was a knock at the door. Manuel opened. It was the chalky old man.
“Hello, student,” he saluted. “And where is Doña Paquita?”
“In her room,” was Manuel’s reply.
Don Sergio rapped at the door with his knuckles and repeated several times:
“May I come in?”
“Come in, Don Sergio,” invited the baroness, “and open the windows.”
The old man entered the room, tripped against the packages scattered over the floor, and opened the balcony shutters.
“But, dear Paquita? Still abed?” he asked, greatly astonished. “That’s not good for your health.”
“Oh, if you could only see how hard I’ve been working,” replied the baroness, stretching herself. “Yesterday I went to bed completely exhausted, and at five this morning I was already at work. But all this dragging of household effects has given me a terrible headache, and has forced me to lie down again.”