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It's Rosario's. He photographs mostly, but he has a notion of colour. 'Really? said I, thinking with regard to my eye that the sun of that atrocious country had put it out. 'I expect I've lost it, I said aloud. 'Your eye? Oh, you'll easily get a fresh one. Do you go home for the exhibitions? 'I did once, I confessed. 'My first leave. A kind of paralysis overtakes one here.
Let us be virtuous and upright; let us turn our eyes away from the ignoble pair, and think no more about either of them." "You know nothing about women, uncle," said Remedios, with flattering hypocrisy; "you are a holy man; you do not understand that Rosario's feeling is only a passing caprice, one of those caprices that are cured by a sound whipping."
But suddenly Dolores shrieked in agony and raised both hands to one ear. "The dog! The dog!" she cried. Rosario's fingers had closed over one of those pearl earrings that had been the admiration of the Fishmarket. She had torn it out. The pretty girl began to sob, pressing her torn ear under both her hands, while blood streamed through her fingers. "Was that the way to fight fairly?" she moaned.
Well, even the 'cats' and the sailors on the beach, when they want to say that a man's wife is deceiving him, call him a worse lanudo than the Rector." "Damn your soul!" Pascualo roared, clenching his fist and shaking it in Rosario's face. "Rosario ... Look, Rosario, be careful what you say.
The paragraph was probably inspired, but it spoke plainly, going so far, even, as to say that the loan had probably averted a revolution. The man who had saved the monarchy of an ancient nation was Rosario. One of his rewards, I think, was to have been a title and a distinguished order; it was understood among us that this was the real bait. Rosario's actual reward you know of."
"That morning," Sabatini continued, "the morning of Rosario's death, one read that the government of that country, which had vainly applied for a loan to all the bankers of Europe with a view to satisfying the claims of the army and navy, had at last succeeded in arranging one through the intervention of Rosario.
Tonet and the two sailors were sitting on the bow, their legs dangling over the water. They were hungrily studying the brilliantly lighted town. Rosario's husband had been stationed at Algiers once, and he had all sorts of stories to tell about his gay escapades about the city. He could even point the places out from the lights in front of them.
He was almost running as he entered a dirty street in one of the most miserable sections of the village, lines of dwarf olives on either hand, the sidewalks filthy with trodden dirt, and lined with two rows of shacks, the front yards fenced in with old boards. The door of Rosario's cottage was closed.
We invited them to sit down, gave them wine and cigarettes and talked over the changes that had taken place in the town since I had last been there. When they had gone, I asked Peppino about Rosario's misfortune and learnt that he had been put into prison for stabbing his father.
A man had stopped at Rosario's counter and was bargaining, when Dolores, with a vigorous rapping on her scales and one of her prettiest smiles, enticed him in her direction. "Thief! Thief! He was my customer one of my best! And you've taken him away!
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