"But, the deuce! Has Milagros deceived you? Were you married to her?
You've had a quarrel; that's all."
"I'll wind up by doing something desperate. Take my word for it,"
muttered Leandro.
Neither spoke. They entered La Corrala, climbed up the stairways and
walked into Leandro's house. They brought out supper, but Leandro
didn't eat; he drank three glasses of water in succession and went out
to the gallery.
Manuel was about to leave after supper, when he heard Leandro call him
several times.
"What do you want?"
"Come on, let's be going."
Manuel ran out to the balcony; Milagros and her mother, from their
door, were heaping insults upon Leandro.
"Outcast! Blackguard!" the proof-reader's wife was shouting. "If her
father were here you wouldn't talk like that."
"I would, too, even if her grandfather were here," exclaimed Leandro,
with a savage laugh. "Come on, let's be off," he added, turning to
Manuel. "I'm sick and tired of these whores."
They left the gallery and were soon out of El Corralon.
"What was the matter?'" asked Manuel.
"Nothing. It's all over now," answered Leandro. "I went in and said to
her, nice enough, 'Listen Milagros, is it true that you're going to
marry Lechuguino?' 'Yes, it is true. Is it any business of yours?' she
says. 'Yes, it is,' I said to her.
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