The boys gave her more bother; the younger not so much, since, as they
said, he continued to reveal a steady nature. The elder, however, was
rebellious and intractable.
"He doesn't take after me," thought Petra. "In fact, he's quite like
my husband."
And this disquieted her. Her husband, Manuel Alcazar, had been an
energetic, powerful man, and, towards his last days, harsh-tempered
and brutal.
He was a locomotive machinist and earned good pay. Petra and he could
not get along together and the couple were always at blows.
Folks and friends alike blamed Alcazar the machinist for everything,
as if the systematic contrariness of Petra, who seemed to enjoy
nagging the man, were not enough to exasperate any one. Petra had
always been that way,--wilful, behind the mask of humility, and as
obstinate as a mule. As long as she could do as she pleased the rest
mattered little.
While the machinist was alive, the family's economic situation had
been relatively comfortable. Alcazar and Petra paid sixteen duros per
month for their rooms on Relojo street, and took in boarders: a mail
clerk and other railroad employes.
Their domestic existence might have been peaceful and pleasureful were
it not for the daily altercations between husband and wife. They had
both come to feel such a need for quarrelling that the most
insignificant cause would lead to scandalous scenes.
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