“You made a mistake in giving it up,” replied Robledo drily.
Pirovani assumed a superior air.
“You must admit, my dear fellow, that your quarters weren’t quite the proper place for a lady, at least a lady of such distinction.... Even though I never went to college, I know what a man with any claims to being anybody owes to such a woman, and that’s why....”
With a shrug Robledo moved on as though he did not wish to hear further. The contractor puffed along behind him, and, pointing towards the glowing windows, he exclaimed in a transport of enthusiasm;
“What a voice! What an artist, eh?”
Once more Robledo shrugged, and then both men went into the house.
On reaching the drawing room they joined the other three men who were standing there listening. No sooner had Elena uttered the last note than the contractor burst into applause amid loud exclamations of enthusiasm. Canterac, Robledo, and Moreno, although less explosively, also expressed their admiration, each in his own fashion.
It at once became evident that in the new house the gatherings were going to be less simple and austere than in Robledo’s lodgings. Sebastiana, who held firmly to the opinion that mate was the remedy for every kind of infirmity, as well as the supreme delight of the human palate, was forced to serve cups of boiling water with a thing called tea in it to the guests.... The two little half-breed servants followed shyly in Sebastiana’s wake, bearing sugar and cakes.
Under pretext of attending to the serving of the refreshments, Elena came and went among those guests of hers, whose eyes avidly followed her about as she balanced her cup, sometimes spilling a little of its contents on the saucer. Her three privileged admirers tried to engage her in conversation; but, gently evading them, she always brought it about that sooner or later, they found themselves carrying on a dialogue with her husband.... Meanwhile, she was in pursuit of the only man who, so it seemed, cared nothing about talking to her, and who had been silent most of the evening. Finally, by skilful manœuvres, she found herself sitting at the far end of the room with Robledo beside her.
“Evidently Watson didn’t care to come,” Elena was saying. “I am more firmly convinced every day that he doesn’t like me, and I sometimes think that you don’t like me very much either....”