"Withered," said Ventura, "why do you put on roses? Is it not known that they always die of envy on the head of a handsome woman?"
"Look here, Ventura," said one of his friends, "you appear to like the forbidden fruit better than any other."
"I," responded Ventura, "like good fruit though it be forbidden."
"That is an indignity," said a friend of Perico's.
One of those present took the speaker by the arm, and said to him, as he drew him aside.
"Hush, man! don't you see that he is drunk? Who gave you a candle for this funeral? What is it to you if Perico, who is the one interested, consents?"
"Who dares to say that Perico Alvareda consents to an indignity?" said the latter presenting himself in the middle of the room, as pale as if risen from a bier.
At the sound of her husband's voice, Rita slid like a serpent among the bystanders and disappeared.
"He comes in good time to look after his wife," said some hair-brained youths, who formed a sort of retinue to the brilliant dancer and valiant young soldier, bursting into a laugh.
"Sirs," said Perico, crossing his arms upon his breast with a look of suppressed rage, "have I a monkey show in my face?"