"It seems impossible, Sebastian, that a man like you, with a wife and children, should have lent yourself to this debauchery.... I who believed you so different and who had such confidence in you when you went on journeys with Juan! I who felt quite at ease thinking that he went with a man of good character! Where is all your talk about your ideas and your religion? Is this what you learn at the meeting of Jews in the house of Don Joselito, the teacher?"
El Nacional, terrified by the indignation of Gallardo's mother, and touched by the tears of Carmen, who was silently weeping, her face hidden behind a handkerchief, defended himself feebly.
"Seña Angustias, do not touch my ideas; and if you please, leave Don Joselito in peace, as he has nothing whatever to do with this. By the life of the blue dove! I went to La Rincona because my master ordered me. You know well enough what a cuadrilla is. It is just the same as an army, discipline and obedience. The matador orders, and we have to obey. As all this about the bulls dates from the time of the Inquisition, there is no profession more reactionary."
"Imposter!" screamed Señora Angustias, "you are fine with all these fables about the Inquisition and reaction! Between you all you are killing this poor child, who spends her days weeping like la Dolorosa. What you want to do is to hide my son's debauchery because he feeds you."
"You have said it, Seña Angustias, Juaniyo feeds me; so it is. And as he feeds me, I must obey him.... But look here, Señora, put yourself in my place. If my matador tells me I am to go to La Rincona ... all right. If at the time of our departure I find a very pretty woman in the automobile! ... what am I to do? The matador orders. Besides, I did not go alone; Potaje also went, and he is a person of a certain age and respectability, even though he is rough; but he never laughs."
The torero's mother was furious at this excuse.
"Potaje! A bad man, whom Juaniyo would not have in his cuadrilla if he had any shame. Don't speak to me of that drunkard, who beats his wife, and starves his children."
"All right; we'll leave Potaje out. I say, when I saw that great lady, what was I to do? She is the Marquis' niece, and you know that toreros have to stand well with people of rank if they can. They have to live on the public. And what harm was there? And then at the farm there was nothing. I swear it by my own. Do you think I should have countenanced this dishonour, even if my matador had ordered me? I am a decent man, Seña Angustias, and you do wrong to call me the bad names you did just now. I repeat there was nothing. They spoke to each other just as you and I do; there was not an evil look or word, each spent the night on their own side; there was decency at all times, and if you wish for Potaje to come, he will tell you...."
But Carmen interrupted in a tearful voice cut by sobs.