Cotoner started to laugh, in sheer admiration of the princely simplicity with which the master gave him the commission.
"Thank you, sir; I am highly honored by such a favor, but I am not going. You confounded fool. Do you suppose that girl knows who Renovales is or has ever even heard of his name?"
The master expressed his astonishment with childlike simplicity.
"Man alive. I believe that the name Renovales—that what the papers have said—that my portraits—— Be frank, say that you don't want to."
And he was silent, offended at his companion's refusal and his doubt that his fame had reached this corner. Friends sometimes abuse us with unexpected scorn and great injustice.
At the end of the show the master felt that he must do something, not go away without sending the "Bella Fregolina" some evidence of his presence. He bought an elaborate basket of flowers from a flower vendor who was starting home, discouraged at the poor business. She should deliver it immediately to Señorita—"Fregolina."
"Yes, to Pepita," said the woman with a knowing air, as if she were one of her friends.
"And tell her it is from Señor Renovales—from Renovales, the painter."
The woman nodded, repeating the name. "Very well, Renovales," just as she would have said any other name. And without the least emotion she took the five dollars which the painter gave her.
"Five dollars! You idiot," muttered his friend, losing all respect for him.