Don José persisted; he really must go, it was unavoidable, but his matador would remain, and he undertook to let them know at his house that they were not to expect him.
Gallardo made an agonized gesture, but was a little quieted by a look from his manager.
"Don't be uneasy," he whispered as he went towards the door. "Do you think I am a child? I shall say you are dining with some amateurs from Madrid."
What torments the torero suffered the first few moments at dinner!... The grave and seigniorial luxury of the room intimidated him; he and his hostess seemed lost in it, sitting opposite to each other in the middle of that big table with its enormous silver candelabra fitted with electric light and pink shades.
The imposing servants, stiff and ceremonious, who looked as if nothing could upset their gravity, inspired him with respect. He was ashamed of his clothes and of his manners, feeling the great contrast between the surrounding atmosphere and his own appearance.
But this first feeling of shyness and timidity soon vanished, and Doña Sol laughed at his abstemiousness and the dread with which he touched the plates and glasses. Gallardo looked at her admiringly, certainly the golden-haired lady had a fine appetite! Accustomed as he was to the prudery and abstentions of ladies he had known, who thought it bad form to eat anything, he was astonished at Doña Sol's appetite.
Gallardo, encouraged by her example, ate, and above all drank, drank deeply, seeking in the many fine wines a remedy for that nervousness which had made him so shamefaced, and unable to do anything but smile as he constantly repeated, "Many thanks."
The conversation became more lively. The espada began to be talkative and told her many amusing incidents of bull-fighting life, ending by telling her of El Nacional's original ideas, of the feats of his picador Potaje, who swallowed hard-boiled eggs whole, who was half an ear short, because a companion had bitten it off, who, when he was taken wounded to the infirmary of a Plaza, fell on the bed with such a weight of iron armour and muscles that his big spurs pierced the mattress and he had subsequently to be disentangled with extreme difficulty.
"How very interesting! How very original!"
Doña Sol smiled as she listened to the anecdotes of these rough men, always face to face with death, whom she had hitherto only admired from a distance.