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What better way could there be than to receive the importunate young fellow and talk to him in a perfectly impersonal way, as if no secret existed between them? When Darlés arrived, next day, at the usual time, Teodora led him into the dining-room. "I'll tell mistress you're here," said she. Darlés remained standing there, reflective, one elbow leaning against the window-jamb.
Darlés glanced about him. He noted that a white-bearded old gentleman doubtless the proprietor was closely observing him from the rear of the shop. Already the student had made up his plan of attack. He would snatch the jewels and break for the door. He had left this door ajar, on purpose. The clerk came back with the necklace, which he laid on the moss-green cloth that covered the show-case.
What surprises might not destiny have in store for his youthfulness? To calm himself he began looking at the little bronze and porcelain figures in the cabinets. There were cowled gnomes, dogs, cats looking into a little mirror, with astonished grimaces. Then Darlés studied the marble clock and the big vases on the chimney-piece.
He seemed to find his clothes, his hands, his text-books, his poor little bed all odorous of violets. Still, even this sweet illusion began to fade. Time began to blur it out, as it had blurred his recollections of the girl. Darlés wept a great deal. And one night he wrote her a desperate, somewhat enigmatic note: "I'm going to see you, to-morrow. If you won't let me in, I shall die. Be merciful!
Then the two girls once more took up the thread of the conversation broken by the arrival of Darlés. The poor fellow sensed that he was isolated and dismissed. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, with no break in that animated chatter. Men's names came into it; and Candelas laughed heartily as she reviewed the details of a recent supper she had had. Alicia laughed, too.
The great man made Enrique put his hat on, again. "What are you doing in Madrid?" asked he. "Studying." "Law?" "No, sir. Medicine." "That's a first-rate profession. What year are you in?" "Freshman," answered Darlés, and smiled in a shamefaced sort of way. He knew his answers were short and clumsy, and the feeling of shabbiness oppressed him more than ever.
The inexorable voice continued: "And what have you done, Darlés the Obscure, to be worthy of this treasure? What merits have you had?
On the snow of her bare neck her blonde hair, tinged with red, shadowed tawny reflections. Two splendid emeralds trembled, green as drops of absinthe, in the rosy lobes of her small, fine ears. Don Manuel was beside her. Darlés noted that Alicia and the deputy had very little to say to each other.
Darlés felt a bit disconcerted, and secretly investigated his pockets, estimating the money he had. Mentally he counted: "Five pesetas, ten, fifteen." Yes, there was enough for two seats and a carriage to come back in. "All right, just as you like," he answered, more reassured. "Then I'll go change my dress. I'll be back in a minute."
You'll find it a little to the left, on a bust of white velvet." The vision of the precious stones persisted in her memory with the tenacity of an obsession. It filled her mind and dominated all her thoughts with a dangerous kind of introspective tyranny. Eight o'clock sounded. Enrique Darlés got up. "Going, already?" asked the girl. "Yes, I'm going to supper."
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