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Updated: May 15, 2025
"No, no!" objected Dona Perfecta. "What he has to say to you is an absurdity." "Let him say it." "I ought not to allow such ridiculous questions to be discussed in my house." "What is Senor Ramos' business with me?" Caballuco uttered a few words. "Enough, enough!" exclaimed Dona Perfecta. "Don't trouble my nephew any more. Pepe, don't mind this simpleton.
"You have worked yourself into a heat like those republican orators who came here to preach free religion, free love, and I don't know how many other free things. Let them bring you a glass of water." Caballuco, twisting his handkerchief into a ball, wiped with it his broad forehead and his neck, which were bathed in perspiration.
All you want now is an eight-pounder. Pistols, eh? And a dagger too." "For any thing that might happen," said Caballuco, taking the weapon from his belt and displaying its horrible blade. "In the name of God and of the Virgin!" exclaimed Maria Remedios, closing her eyes and turning her face in terror, "put away that thing. The very sight of it terrifies me."
She then seated herself in front of the old man, who, for a great part of the afternoon, had been sitting motionless and thoughtful in his easy chair. His fingers supported his chin, wrinkling up the brown skin, unshaven for the past three days. "Did Caballuco say he would come here to supper to-night?" he asked his niece. "Yes, senor, he will come.
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