"How can that woman fail to see," thought Manuel, "that the fellow
loves only himself? While I...."
On Sundays there used to be dancing on a lawn near the Ronda de
Segovia, and Senor Custodio, with his wife, Justa and her
sweetheart, would go there. They would leave Manuel behind to watch
the house, but at times he would run off to see the dance.
When he caught sight of Justa dancing with El Carnicerin he was
overwhelmed with a desire to drown them both.
The suitor, moreover, was a terrible show-off; he would affect a
feminine grace as he danced, and it seemed as if he were applauding
and complimenting himself. He kept so finically true to the rhythm
of the dance that a spontaneous motion might ruin everything. He
wouldn't have officiated at mass with greater ceremony.
As was natural, such a complete knowledge of the science of dancing,
united to his consciousness of superiority, endowed El Carnicerin
with admirable self-possession. It was he who was permitting himself
indolently to be won by Justa, who was frantically fond of him. As
they danced she threw herself upon him, her eyes sparkled and her
nostrils dilated; it seemed as if she wished to dominate him,
swallow him, devour him. She did not take her eyes off him, and if
she saw him with another woman her face at once turned colour.
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