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"'The Cub-Slut' sent me to tell you to come to her house; she wants to speak to you." "I will go tomorrow." "No. You must come now, because what she has to say is very important," shouted the youngster. "Well, I can't go now." The youngster protested, and Caesar continued on his way. "Limpy" and "Uncle Chinaman" followed him.
"Driveller" and "The Cub-Slut" got along well, although, by what any one could discover, "The Cub-Slut" treated the bully more like a servant than anything else. "The Cub-Slut" was said to be very outspoken. One Sunday, on the promenade, she had answered one of the young ladies of Castro rudely.
"Have them arrest me. I don't care." "The Cub-Slut" stood firm before Caesar, provocative, with flashing eyes, in an attitude of challenge. "You hated that dead boy so much as this?" "Yes, him and all his family." "I can understand that if the father were alive, you might..." "If he were alive!
A farrier they called "Gaffer," who seemed to have been a kind person, took in the infant and brought her up in his house. It was "Gaffer" who had given the nickname to the child, because instead of calling her by her name, he used to say: "Hey, 'Cub-Slut! Hey, little 'Cub-Slut!" and the appellation had stuck.
He had a mother and two sisters who were seamstresses, whom he exploited, and he lived with a tavern-keeper nicknamed "The Cub-Slut," a buxom, malicious woman, who said horrible things about everybody. There were reasons for "The Cub-Slut's" being what she was. Her parents being dead when she was a baby, having no relatives she had been left deserted.
When the girl was fourteen, "Gaffer" ravished her, and afterwards, being tired of her, took her to a house of prostitution in the Capital and sold her. "The Cub-Slut" left the brothel to go and live with an old innkeeper, who died and made her his heiress. Six years later she went back to Castro.
"I am the woman that lives with 'Driveller' Juan." "Ah! You are...?" "Yes. 'The Cub-Slut." Caesar looked at her attentively. She was of the aquiline type seen on Iberian coins, her nose arched, eyes big and black, thin-lipped mouth, and a protruding chin. She noticed his scrutiny, and stood as if on her guard. "Sit down, if you will, please, and tell me what you wish."
Perhaps you can reconstruct your life. At any rate, nobody will call you by your nickname; nobody will talk familiarly to you. You will conquer or you will be conquered in the struggle for life. That's evident. You will share the common lot, but you will not be vilified. Do go." "The Cub-Slut" listened to Caesar with eyes cast down.
But in this case, judging by what "The Cub-Slut" was telling him, it had not been so; "Gaffer" had gone about it with a certain depravity, glutting his desires on her, and then selling her, putting her into an infamous house. The villain had been cruel and intelligent; the victim had realized that she was one, to the degree that her soul was filled with desires for vengeance.
One Sunday, on the promenade, one of them, on passing near "The Cub-Slut," said in a low tone to her mother: "Dear Lord, what riff-raff!" And "The Cub-Slut," hearing her, stopped and said violently: "There's no riff-raff here except your mother and me. Now you know it." The young lady was so upset by the harsh retort that she didn't leave the house again for a long while.
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