He simply couldn't be kept away from
the company of a certain cross-eyed wretch who was worse than disease
itself, and had become a tramp. The two of them were always seen with
bad women in the stands and lunch-rooms of the Andalucia road.
Manuel told her of his experiences as a baker and how he had fallen
ill; what he did not relate however, was the tale of his dismissal
from the house where his mother was employed.
"That's no kind of job for you. You ought to learn some trade that
requires less strength," was Salome's advice.
Manuel spent the whole morning chatting with the seamstress; she
invited him to a bite and he accepted with pleasure.
In the afternoon Manuel left Salome's house with the thought that if
he were a few years older and had a decent, paying position, he would
marry her, even if he found himself compelled to get the tough who
went with her out of the way with a knife.
Once again upon the Ronda, the first thought that came to Manuel was
that he ought not to go to the Toledo Bridge, nor be in any greater
hurry to reach the Andalucia road, for it was very easy to happen upon
Vidal or Bizco there. He pondered the thought deeply, and yet, despite
this, he took the direction of the bridge, glanced into the sands, and
failing to find his friends there continued along the Canal, crossed
the Manzanares by one of the laundry bridges and came out on Andalucia
road.
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