He
sought shelter in a doorway that was somewhat protected from the rain
and huddled down to sleep.
It was still night when he awoke shivering with the cold, trembling
from head to foot. He started to run so as to warm himself; he reached
the Paseo de Rosales and strode up and down several times.
It seemed that the night would never end.
The rain ceased; the sun came out in the morning; Manuel took refuge
in a hollow on the slope of the embankment. The sun began to warm him
most deliciously. Manuel dreamed of a very white, exceedingly
beautiful woman with golden tresses. Frozen almost to death, he drew
near the lady, and she wrapped him in her golden strands and he
nestled tenderly, ever so tenderly in her lap....
CHAPTER VI
Senor Custodio and His Establishment--The Free Life.
... And he was in the midst of the most ravishing dreams when a harsh
voice recalled him to the bitter, impure realities of existence.
"What are you doing there, loafer?" some one was asking him.
"I!" mumbled Manuel, opening his eyes and staring at his questioner.
"I'm not doing anything."
"Yes, I can see that. I can see that."
Manuel got up; before him he beheld an old man with greyish hair and
gloomy mien, with a sack across his shoulder and a hook in his hand.
The fellow wore a fur cap, a sort of yellowish overcoat and a reddish
muffler rolled around his neck.
Pages:
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244