'That's enough… go away and don't let me see you again. . never again. . get out — d'you understand?'
'Am I to come tomorrow?'
'No — not tomorrow nor any other day. . That's enough, I tell you.' I stood shouting in the middle of the room, the towel still tied round my neck. Then I saw him make a slight bow — an ironical bow, I dare say — murmuring 'As you wish'; then he went to the door and disappeared.
Once I was alone, my anger gradually calmed down. I took off the towel, wiped away the small amount of soap that remained on my face and looked at myself in the mirror. Antonio's cut had been inflicted at the moment when he had almost finished shaving me, so that my face, apart from the long red wound, was smooth. I soaked another piece of cotton-wool in spirit and disinfected the cut thoroughly. I was thinking, in the meantime, about the strange impulse that had driven me to dismiss Antonio, and I realized that the cut had been merely a pretext. I had in truth been wanting to dismiss him all the time; and at the first opportunity I had done so. But it did not escape me that I had dismissed him only when his dismissal no longer harmed me — that is, after I had finished my story. I was aware that, in consequence, I could not represent the barber's dismissal to Leda as a homage to her wishes; for, just as I had kept Antonio, in spite of her accusations, for selfish reasons, so now, for similar reasons, I had got rid of him. At this thought I was conscious of a certain remorse; and for the first time I understood that, perhaps without realizing it, I had not behaved well towards my wife. Meanwhile I was dressing and, when I was ready, I went downstairs.
She was already in the dining-room, sitting at the table. We ate in silence for some time, and then I said: 'You know, I've sacked Antonio. . really and truly.'
Without raising her eyes from her plate, she asked: 'And what will you do about shaving?'
'I shall try and shave myself,' I answered; 'anyhow, it's only for a few days, because we shall be leaving here, shan't we?. . I don't know what came over him today, he gave me a cut as long as my finger. . look.'
She raised her eyes and scrutinized the wound. Then, apprehensively, she asked: 'You put some antiseptic on it?'
'Yes. . And I must tell you that the cut was only an excuse. . actually I couldn't bear Antonio any longer. . You were quite right.'
'What do you mean by that?'