"'This," thought Manuel, "could please only folks like El Carnicerin,
effeminate loafers and indecent women."
Reaching home Manuel ragingly threw down his hat, pulled off his shoes
and got out of the suit in which he had so ridiculously gone to the
bull fight....
Manuel's indignation elicited plenty of comment from Senor Custodio
and his wife, and he himself was somewhat intimidated by it; he
understood that the spectacle hadn't been to his taste; what struck
him as strange was that it should rouse so much anger, such rage in
him.
Summer went by; Justa began to make preparations for her wedding, and
in the meantime Manuel thought of leaving Senor Custodio's house and
getting out of Madrid altogether. Whither? He didn't know; the farther
away, the better, he thought.
In November one of Justa's shopmates got married, in La Bombilla,
Senor Custodio and his wife found it impossible to attend, so that
Manuel accompanied Justa.
The bride lived in the Ronda de Toledo, and her house was the
meeting-place for all the guests.
At the door a large omnibus was waiting; it could hold any number of
persons.
All the guests piled in; Justa and Manuel found a place on the top and
waited a while. The bride and bridegroom appeared amidst a throng of
gamins who were shouting at the top of their lungs; the groom looked
like a dry goods clerk; she, emaciated and ugly, looked like a monkey;
the best man and the bridesmaids followed after, and in this group a
fat old lady, flat-nosed, cross-eyed, white-haired, with a red rose in
her hair and a guitar in her hand, advanced with a _flamenco_
air.
Pages:
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274