"I am late," she said. "I am sorry. What is it you wish to say to me?"
"Camila,—" he began.
"My name is Doña Micaela."
"I do not wish to offend you, Doña Micaela, but when you let me call you Camila for twenty years, I should think——"
"Oh, do as you like. Do as you like."
"Camila, promise me that you will listen to me. Promise me that you will not run away at my first sentence."
At once she burst out with unexpected passion: "Uncle Pio, listen to me. You are mad if you think you can make me return to the theatre. I look back at the theatre with horror. Understand that. The theatre! The theatre, indeed! The daily payment of insults in that filthy place. Understand that you are wasting your time."
He answered gently: "I would not have you come back if you are happy with these new friends."
"You don't like my new friends, then?" she answered quickly. "Whom do you offer me in their stead?"
"Camila, I only remember ..."