And he thought
that he was fulfilling his duty by not keeping a mistress, by staying at
home, but still abusing her with his words that made her an object of
derision. If her mother were only alive! If her brothers were not so
selfish, wandering about the world from embassy to embassy, satisfied
with life, paying no attention to her letters filled with complaints,
thinking she was insane because she was not contented with a
distinguished husband and with wealth!
Renovales, in the darkness, lifted his hands to his forehead in despair,
infuriated at the sing-song of her unjust words.
"Her mother!" he thought. "It's lucky that intolerable old dame is under
the sod forever. Her brothers! A crowd of rakes that are always asking
me for something whenever they get a chance. Heavens! Give me the
patience to stand this woman, the calm resignation to keep a cool head
and not to forget that I am a man!"
He scorned her mentally in order to maintain his indifference in this
way. Bah! A woman! and a sick one! Every man carries his cross and his
was Josephina.
But she, as if she penetrated his thoughts, stopped crying and spoke to
him slowly in a voice that shook with cruel irony.
"You need not expect anything from the Alberca woman," she said suddenly
with feminine incoherence. "I warn you that she has worshipers by the
dozen, young and stylish, too, something that counts more with women
than talent."
"What difference does that make to me?" Renovales' voice roared in the
darkness with an outbreak of wrath.
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