..;
but a fine place this was for learning to respect anything!
One morning, after the solemn ceremony had been celebrated in which
all the women of the house issued into the corridor swinging their
night service, there burst from Dona Violante's room a clamour of
shouts, weeping, stamping and vociferation.
The landlady, the Biscayan and several of the boarders tiptoed into
the corridor to pry. Inside the quarrellers must have realized that
they were being spied upon, for they opened the door and the fray
continued in low tones.
Manuel and the landlady's niece remained in the entry. They could hear
Irene's sobbing and the scolding voices of Celia and Dona Violante.
At first they could not make out what was being said; but soon the
three women forgot their determination to speak low and their voices
rose in anger.
"Go! Go to the House of Mercy and have them rid you of that swelling!
Wretch!" cried Celia.
"Well, what of it?" retorted Irene. "I'm caught, am I? I know it. What
of it?"
Dona Violante opened the door to the entry furiously; Manuel and the
landlady's niece scampered off, and the old lady came out in a patched
flannel shift and a weed kerchief tied about her ears, and began to
pace to and fro, dragging her worn-out shoes from end to end of the
corridor.
"The sow! Worse than a sow!" she muttered.
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