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Updated: May 13, 2025
EVASIO MON There are some people whose presence in a room seems to establish a mental centre of gravity round which other minds hover uneasily, conscious of the dead weight of that attraction. "I have known Evasio all my life," the Count de Sarrion once said to his son. "I have stood at the edge of that pit and looked in. I do not know to this day whether there is gold at the bottom or mud.
"My son is in Saragossa," said Mogente suddenly, with a change of manner. "I will see him. Send for him." The notary glanced up at Evasio Mon, who shook his head. "I cannot send for him at two in the morning." "Then I will sign no will." "Sign the will now," suggested the lawyer, with a look of doubt towards the dark doorway behind the sick man's head. "Sign now, and see your son to-morrow."
"By the way ..." said Sarrion, and followed her without completing his sentence. So Juanita and Evasio Mon were left alone on the terrace. Juanita was sitting rather upright in a garden chair. The only seat near to her was the easy chair just vacated by Cousin Peligros. Mon looked at it. He glanced at Juanita and then drew it forward.
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