The meek and obsequious gentleman he had stumbled against earlier in the evening was now stretched out on the divan, smoking, and looking much like a laborer enjoying a few minutes of rest. He had been watching the spirals of smoke from his cigarette unroll in the heavy air, but when Robledo sat down near him, he felt it incumbent upon him to smile at the stranger. In a few moments he inquired,
“Are you bored to death?”
Robledo looked sharply at him before he answered.
The little man nodded sadly, and Robledo made a gesture which plainly said, “Let’s clear out, shall we?”
But the little man’s eyes seemed to reply, “If I only could!”
“You are living here in the house?” inquired Robledo finally.
And the little man replied breathlessly, with a jerk of his head and arms.
“This is my house. I am the Countess’s husband....”
After this revelation, Robledo thought it discreet to retire. Putting the cigar he had been about to light back in his pocket, he returned to the drawing-room.