Leandro was eager for
Milagros to learn that he had been there with a woman, so he
accompanied Fanny through the place, pointing out all the holes of the
wretched dwelling.
"Poverty's the only thing you can see here," said Leandro.
"Yes, yes indeed," answered the woman.
"Now if you wish, we'll go to La Blasa's tavern."
They left the Corralon for Embajadores lane and walked along the black
fence of a laundry. It was a dark night and a drizzle had begun to
fall. They stumbled along the surrounding path.
"Look-out," said Leandro. "There's a wire here."
He stepped upon the wire to hold it down. They all crossed the path
and passed a group of white houses, coming to Las Injurias.
They approached a low cottage with a dark socle; a door with clouded
broken panes stuffed with bundles of paper, through which shone a
pallid light, gave entrance to the dwelling. In the opaque
transparency of the glass appeared from time to time the shadow of a
person.
Leandro opened the door and they all went in. A stuffy, smoky wave of
atmosphere struck them in the face. A kerosene lamp, hanging from the
ceiling and covered with a white shade, provided light for the tiny,
low-roofed tavern.
As the four entered, the customers greeted them with an expression of
stupefaction; for a while the habituees whispered among themselves,
then some, resumed their playing as others looked on.
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