"And that good-for-nothing brother-in-law of yours, how is he?"
"He's all right—as much of a gabbler as ever."
"Are there any additions to the family? Any expectations?"
"No—not even that."
He made a fingernail crackle between his teeth with a strong negative expression and then began returning the questions to the new arrivals, of whose life he knew nothing beyond their inclination for the art of bull-fighting.
"And how is your family—all right? Well, glad to hear it. Sit down and have something."
Then he inquired about the condition of the bulls that were to be fought within a few hours, for all these friends had come from the plaza and from seeing the separation and penning in of the animals; and, with professional curiosity, he asked news of the Café Inglés, a favorite gathering place of bull-fight fans.
It was the first bull-fight of the spring season, and Gallardo's enthusiasts showed great hopes, remembering the glowing accounts in the newspapers of his recent triumphs in other towns of Spain. He was the bull-fighter who had the most contracts. Since the Easter corrida in Seville (the first important one of the taurine year) Gallardo had gone from plaza to plaza killing bulls.
When August and September came, he would have to spend his nights on the train and his afternoons in the rings, without time to rest. His agent at Seville was almost crazy, so besieged was he by letters and telegrams, not knowing how to harmonize so many petitions for contracts with the exigencies of time. The afternoon before he had fought at Ciudad Real and, still dressed in his spangled costume, he had boarded the train to reach Madrid by morning. He had spent a wakeful night, only napping occasionally, crouched in the portion of a seat left him by the other passengers who crowded close together to give some chance for rest to this man who was to expose his life on the morrow, and was to afford them the joy of a tragic emotion without danger to themselves.
The enthusiasts admired his physical endurance, and the rash daring with which he threw himself upon the bulls at the moment of killing.