United States or Mauritania ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Very small, indeed. What's your wife's name?" "Rafaela." "Yes, yes," answered Don Adolfo. "Rafaela's the woman. I know her well. As for Manolo, your son, I know him too." Amadeo Zureda trembled. He felt afraid, and cold. For a few moments he remained silent, without knowing what to say.
Rafaela's nose was all bloody, her forehead was bruised and her hands bore lacerations. "What's the matter with you?" repeated the engineer. Old and dull as were his eyes, now they blazed up again with that red lightning of death which, twenty years before, had sent him to prison. Rafaela was terrified, and tried to lie out of it. "It's nothing, Amadeo," she stammered. "Nothing, I tell you.
Another minute passed; for all women, even the simplest and most ignorant, know to perfection the magic secret of making a man wait for them. But after a little while, Berlanga heard Rafaela's bare feet paddling along the hall. The young woman reached the bedroom of the silversmith, and in the shadows her exploring hands met the hands that Manolo was stretching out to greet her.
"Farewell, Donna Ana," he said. "It's been such a pleasure to meet you." The wizened old duenna was nonplussed. She did not know whether to resent this pleasantry or be gratified by it. Mechanically she accepted Jack's extended hand. At that moment, Bob called to him. Jack turned. Mr. Hampton already had entered the airplane. They were waiting for him. Once more he seized Rafaela's hand.
After the sorry job was done, Berlanga cleared out and never came back till one or two in the morning. Then he went to his room and turned in without making a light, no doubt ashamed of his cowardly deed. For a while he tried to excuse himself. After all, thought he, the whole blame wasn't his. Rafaela's tirade and the wine he himself had drunk, had been more than half at fault.
Word Of The Day