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Updated: June 21, 2025
For Dolores, the beautiful, Dolores, the bewitching, had her enemies in that throng of jealous wives. "Hey, the Rector! Hey, the prize-lanudo! A toreador for you, when you come home! The devil will want you, for the horns you'll have! Is it Jersey or Holstein? Or just any old steer, except a short-horn! And we're telling the truth, for once!" Tonet grew uneasy. He was in plain sight of the throng.
Besides, and this is what Tonet himself said it was better for her to marry his brother than run any risk on some one else; and the Rector was a good sort, too.
Pascualet was little Tonet all over again, the frail nervous child he had tended like a nurse-maid in the tavern-boat. No, that was Tonet's boy, no use denying it, the living, visible proof of his dishonor!
Tonet, however, with nothing in particular to lose on the venture, made fun of the old-tub a torpedo-boat he called her, she sat so low in the water! At dawn the Mala Dona was just visible, as an indistinct silhouette, over the stern, and an hour later they were fairly to sea.
What a pity, though, for that poor girl Rosario, so modest and unassuming and never saying a word, who took her sewing down to the beach with Roseta, and was always timidly asking whether siñá Tona had had any word from Tonet.
What the devil! Don't even think of that! It was all right, all right! He had not been having a bad time himself on his trip around the world! And, in the midst of the popularity he was enjoying as a returned hero, Tonet seemed to forget all about Dolores and the Rector.
While Pascualo was putting body and soul into his new enterprise, Tonet, with his share in the booty the Rector had done his best to make it as large as could be was enjoying one of his seasons of prosperity. In the tumble-down shack where he lived with Rosario to the tune of quarrels, swear-words and cudgelings, not the slightest trace of abundance entered after the lucky trip "across the way."
Well, why else should people talk? No ... all I want is to be let alone, and not be plagued all the time. Keep Tonet away, no. I won't be mean to him. However, if I have seemed to be too intimate, I'll be more careful in the future, even though he's one of the family ... just so people will have no reason to say anything ...!" Tia Picores beamed. "Now, that's the way to talk!
The people in the Cabañal are donkeys, idiots, rotters, that's all! Tonet, God save us! Why, Tonet ... he worships Dolores, like a mother.... But no, my house has simply got to be a brothel, for those chatter-boxes.... Tonet! God!"
He's the living picture of Tonet, as Tonet used to be in the days when he was a boy with you, down at the tavern, and was running around like a little devil on the beach!" The Rector did not need convincing further. He was ready to believe that now.
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