"I'm an old fool; but I can't help it," Don Alonso murmured in
explanation of his weakness.
"And did you stay in New Orleans?" asked Roberto.
"Perez and I signed a contract there," replied Don Alonso, "with a big
circus syndicate of New York that had about twenty or thirty companies
touring all America. All of us gymnasts, ballet-dancers, ecuyeres,
acrobats, pantominists, clowns, contortionists, and strong men
travelled in a special train.... The majority were Italians and
Frenchmen."
"Were there good-looking women, eh?" asked Manuel.
"Uf! ... Like this ..." replied Don Alonso, bringing his fingers all
together. "Women with such muscles! ... There was no other life
anything like it," he added, reverting to his melancholy theme. "You
had all the money and women and clothes you wanted.... And above all,
glory, applause...."
And the gymnast went into a trance of enthusiasm, staring rigidly at a
fixed point.
Roberto and Manuel gazed at him in curiosity.
"And Rosita,--didn't you ever see her again?" asked Roberto.
"No. They told me that she had got a divorce from Napoleon so that she
could marry again, in Boston, some millionaire from the West. Ah,
women.... Who can trust them? ... But gentlemen, it's already eleven.
Pardon me; I'll have to be going. Thanks ever so much!" murmured Don
Alonso, seizing Roberto and Manuel by the hands and pressing them
effusively.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137