“‘A new kind,’ I told him.
“He drank, then lay back—asleep.
“From a shelf of etching materials I took a bottle. The liquid inside was clear. So harmless it looked! Poured some into a cup. Filled the cup with water, then knelt down beside the sleeping Pedro—dipped a feather into the liquid—and painted half his handsome face. Nitric acid—bites deep....
“Pedro’s groans were silenced with a gag. More tea for rest and sleep.
“The streets that night were empty as I half carried, half dragged Pedro to the shanty where he lived alone. I threw him on the bed and looked without pity on his face.
“No—there was nothing—to be afraid of, I told him. But Pedro didn’t hear.
“Don Juan’s career was finished. Apollo had become repulsive. My last debt was paid.
“I packed two bags and caught the early train. That afternoon I said ‘Good-bye’ to the islands of Boston Harbor as I steamed out for England.”
Several minutes dragged past before either of us moved.