The next day Vidal told his cousin that he had found out who the girl was. Her name was Flora, she lived on the Calle del Pez and went to a fashion shop on the Calle de Barquillo; the place was really a disguised house of assignation. Vidal meant to win La Flora.
He had already made some progress toward this conquest when Calatrava, who was satisfied with Manuel and Vidal, invited them one Sunday afternoon to a house on the Calle del Barquillo, where they would meet some good-looking girls and take them to Los Viveros. That afternoon was filled for Manuel with terrible emotions. Calatrava, Vidal and Manuel rode to the fashion shop in a carriage. They were shown up into a small parlour, regularly furnished. In a short while La Flora appeared, accompanied by a tall woman with black eyes and citreous complexion,—a really fetching wench who aroused intense enthusiasm in Calatrava.
“Let’s wait till another one shows up,” suggested Vidal.
They chatted for a while, waiting. Footfalls were heard in the corridor; a curtain was drawn[275] aside, disclosing a woman. It was La Justa, paler than before, her eyes blacker than ever, her lips red. Manuel stared at her in amazement2; she turned her shoulder upon him and tried to sneak3 out.
“What’s your hurry?” asked Vidal.
She made no reply.
“Very well. Let’s be going,” said Calatrava.
They left the parlour, and walked down the stairs; Vidal helped La Flora into the carriage that was waiting for them; Manuel entered with La Justa; in another carriage sat Calatrava and the tall, black-eyed woman. They rode toward the Puerta del Sol, and afterward4, through the Plaza5 de Oriente to La Bombilla.
In their carriage, Vidal and Flora were talking away without pause for breath; La Justa and Manuel were silent as the tomb.
The lunch was a sad affair for this couple; when it was finished, Vidal and Calatrava disappeared. La Justa and Manuel remained seated before the table, at a loss for words. Manuel was penetrated6 by a grievous sadness, the complete annihilation of existence.
Toward nightfall the three couples returned to Madrid and had supper in a room of the Café Habanero.
They all exchanged confidences; each recounted his life and miracles, with the exception of La Justa, who did not open her mouth.
“I entered the business,” said La Flora, “because it was all I had ever seen in my own house. I never knew what a father or mother meant; until I was[276] fifteen I lived with some aunts of mine who were as bad as myself. Only they were a happier sort. The elder of them had a boy, and she’d leave him in the drawer of a bureau, which she had turned into a bed. They hadn’t any clothes, and if one went out the other would have to stay home; they wore the same pair of shoes and the same skirts. Whenever they found themselves without funds they would write to a woman who ran a house, would answer her call, and come back happily with their money. They wanted to place me in a shop, but says I, ‘Nothing doing; if I must go to work, me for the gay life,’ and I went into the business.”
The other woman, she who was tall and beautiful, spoke8 with a certain bitterness. They called her Petra la Aragonesa.
“As for me,” she began, “I was dishonoured9 by a young gentleman; I lived in Zaragoza, and went right into the business. As my father lives there, and is a carpenter, and my brothers as well, I thought of coming to Madrid so as to spare them the shame. So a chum of mine and myself planned to make the journey together. We each had about ten duros or more when we reached Madrid. At the station we take a carriage, stop at a café, eat, and then start out doing the streets. At a certain corner, I believe it was on the Plaza de los Mostenses, in a lane that I couldn’t place or name for the life of me, we see a house with the windows all lit up, and hear the sound of a barrel-organ. In we go; two fellows started to dance with us and took us off to a house in the Calle de San Marcos.
[277]
“The next day, when I got up, my man says to me: ‘Go on and bring the money you’ve got with you, and we’ll eat right here.’ I answered that there was nothing doing. Then another guy showed up and took us through the house; it was rigged up fine, with sofas and mirrors. He offered us some whisky and cake, and invited us to remain there. I didn’t want to take anything, and left the place. The other girl gave every peseta she had to her man, and stayed. Afterward that guy took everything she earned and beat her into the bargain.”
“And is your companion still living at that house?” asked Vidal.
“No. They transferred her to a house in Lisbon for forty-five dollars.”
“Why did she go?”
“The fact is that the women in this business are beastly stupid,” said Vidal. “They have no sense, they don’t know their rights, nor nothing.”
“And how about you?” asked Calatrava of La Justa.
The girl shrugged her shoulders but did not part her lips.
“Not a bit of it,” retorted La Justa dryly. “I’m just what you are. A common woman.”
They finished their supper and each couple went off in a different direction. Manuel accompanied La Justa as far as the Calle de Jacometrezo, where she lived.
[278]
As they reached the entrance to the house Manuel was about to take leave, averting13 his glance, when she said to him: “Wait.” The watchman opened for them, she gave him ten céntimos, he gave her a long wax match after lighting14 it in his lantern, and she and Manuel began to ascend15 the staircase. The flickering16 light of the wax match made the shadows of the two fall alternately huge and small upon the walls. Reaching the third floor La Justa opened a door with a latch-key and they both entered a narrow room with an alcove17. La Justa lighted an oil lamp and sat down; Manuel followed her example.
Never had Manuel felt so wretched as on that night. He could not understand why La Justa had asked him to come up with her; he felt inhibited18 in her presence and did not dare to ask her anything.
After they had exchanged a few indifferent words, Manuel managed to say to her:
“And your father?”
“He’s well.”
All at once, without any warning, La Justa burst into tears. She must have been overwhelmed by an irrepressible desire to tell Manuel her life’s story, and so she did, with many a sigh and broken word.
The butcher’s son, after taking her out of the shop where she worked, had dishonoured her and infected her with a loathsome19 disease; then he abandoned her and escaped to Madrid. A single recourse remained open to her: she must go to the hospital. When her father went to San Juan de[279] Dios and saw her lying flat on her back with rubber tubes thrust into her open groins, he was on the point of killing20 her then and there, and in a voice vibrating with fury declared that his daughter was dead to him. She burst into disconsolate21 tears; a woman in a neighbouring bed said to her: “Why don’t you go into the business?” But her only answer was to weep harder than ever. When she was discharged she went back to the workshop, but the forelady would have none of her. It was now night, and she left the place ready for anything. She happened to be on the Calle Mayor; a man happened by, swinging a cane22, and said to her: “Come along with me.” They walked down the street together, and that man brought her to the station; they climbed to the top story and walked through a dark corridor into a room lighted by electricity. It was full of women who were chatting and laughing with the officials. At the end of some time a gentleman began to read a list and the women filed out. Only some twenty or thirty of the most filthy23 and tattered24 remained. They were ordered down several flights of stairs and locked into a cell.
“I spent a desperate night there,” concluded La Justa. “The next day they took me to be examined and gave me a certificate.”
Manuel could not find a word of solace25; La Justa, sensing his coldness, mastered her emotion. They continued to chat. Then Manuel tranquilly26 gave an account of his own adventures; one recollection interwove with another, and they talked and talked unwearyingly. As they sat thus conversing27 the[280] flame of the lamp flickered28 for a moment and with a gentle sputter29 went out.
“That, too, is accident,” said La Justa.
“No. It must have run out of oil,” replied Manuel. “Very well. I guess I’ll be going.”
“Haven’t you any matches?” she asked.
“No.”
Manuel got up and groped about; he stumbled against the table, then, striking a chair, he paused.
La Justa opened the balcony shutter31 that faced the street, thus allowing Manuel sufficient light to find his way to the door.
“Have you the house key?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then how am I to get out?”
“We’ll have to call the watchman.”
They walked out to the balcony; the night was cold, the sky studded with stars. They waited for the watchman’s lantern to appear.
La Justa nestled close up to Manuel; he placed his arm around her waist. They spoke no more; they closed the shutters32 and hastened through the darkness toward the alcove.
They must accept things as they came. Manuel promised La Justa that he would find some honest means of earning a modest living, and that he’d take her out of this life at once. La Justa wept tears of deep emotion upon Manuel’s shoulder. Despite the fascinating plans of regeneration which they formulated33 that night, Manuel made no efforts whatsoever;[281] the one thing he did was to come and live with La Justa. At times the couple were filled with deep repugnance34 for the life they led, and would quarrel and hurl35 insults at each other upon the slightest provocation36; but they made peace directly after.
Every night, while Manuel slept in that hole after many hours at the gambling37 den7, La Justa would return exhausted38 with her round of the cafés, restaurants and houses of assignation. In the livid light of daybreak her checks were of a filthy hue39 and her smile was the essence of sadness.
There were times when she fell staggering into the room, dead drunk; as she entered the house and stumbled alone up the stairs, she was filled with a haunting fear and deep remorse40. Dawn brought to her, as it were, an awakening41 of conscience.
Reaching the room, she would open the door with her latch-key, enter and lie down beside him, trembling with the cold but careful not to waken him.
Manuel grew quickly accustomed to this new life and the new friendships it brought; he was too lazy and too timorous42 to make any attempt at changing. Some Sunday afternoons La Justa and he would go for a stroll to the Cuatro Caminos or the Puerta de Hierro, and when they did not quarrel they discussed their illusions,—a change of luck that would fall into their laps without any effort on their part, as a gift from Providence43.
During this winter the proprietors44 of the Círculo installed upon the lower floor, which was formerly[282] occupied by the café, a new venture,—the Salón París; upon the list of the sensational45 beauties who would grace the salon46 appeared dancers and singers of the most widespread reputation: the Dahlias, Gardenias47, Magnolias, and so forth48. In addition, as a special attraction, there was announced the début of Chuchita, the daughter of the Colonel’s wife. Both as mother and as impresaria she was doing her best to exploit her child. On the day of the child’s first public performance the mother distributed the claque over the whole house. Vidal, the Cripple and Manuel, in their capacity as chief claqueurs, occupied one of the first rows of seats.
“You’ll all applaud, won’t you?” asked the Colonel’s wife.
“Don’t you worry,” answered Calatrava. “And if anybody doesn’t like it, just look at the fine argument I’m carrying.” He showed his cudgel.
Chuchita followed a hypnotizer upon the bill; she appeared to a salvo of applause. She danced without any suggestion of grace, and no sooner had she finished her song and danced the tango that followed it, than the stage was littered with floral wreaths and other gifts. After the conclusion of the part in which Chuchita appeared, Manuel and Vidal joined a number of newspaper men, among whom were two friends of the sculptor49 Alex, and together they all proceeded to offer their congratulations to the father of Chuchita.
They summoned the watchman and went into the house. The servant asked them to pass to the Colonel’s room. That worthy50 was in bed, calmly[283] smoking. They all trooped into the bedchamber.
“Congratulations, dear Colonel.”
The gentleman who was such a stickler51 for military honour received these felicitations without any realization52 of the sarcasm53 that flowed beneath.
“And how was it? Really, how was it?” asked the father from his bed.
“Very good. At first a trifle timid, but very soon she let loose.”
“That’s it. Dancers are like soldiers; as soon as they reach the field of battle, their courage rises.”
Everybody, the journalists and the rabble54 that had tagged after them, greeted the epigram with derisive55 laughter. They left the colonel and went back to the Salón París.
The Colonel’s wife, Chuchita and her blond sister, accompanied by a Senator, a newspaper man and a well-known bull-fighter, were getting ready for supper in one of the Círculo’s private rooms.
According to popular gossip, Chuchita showed a decided56 inclination57 toward the bull-fighter, and the Colonel’s wife not only did not seek to dissuade58 her, but had actually sent for the torero so that Chuchita’s début might be in every way a pleasant event for the child....
The opening of the Salón París gave Manuel and Vidal opportunity to make new acquaintances.
Vidal had become friends with Chuchita’s brother, who hung about the theatre as a pimp, and the youngster took Vidal and Manuel to the dancers’ greenroom.
When La Justa discovered the sort of friends[284] Manuel was now consorting59 with she raised a terrible row. La Justa had become bent60 upon making Manuel’s life intolerable, and when she wasn’t upbraiding61 him and telling him that he was nothing but a loafer who sponged on her earnings62, she was exhibiting the wildest jealousy63. Whenever she had one of these outbursts Manuel would shrug10 his shoulders resignedly, while La Justa, plunged64 for the nonce into the depths of despair, would throw herself prone65 upon the floor and lie there motionless, as if dead. Then her paroxysm of anger would pass, and she would be so quiet....
[285]
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1
flora
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| n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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2
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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3
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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4
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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6
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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7
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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8
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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9
dishonoured
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| a.不光彩的，不名誉的 | |
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10
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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11
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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12
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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13
averting
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| 防止，避免( avert的现在分词 )； 转移 | |
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14
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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15
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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16
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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17
alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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18
inhibited
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| a.拘谨的，拘束的 | |
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19
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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21
disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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23
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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24
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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25
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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26
tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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27
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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28
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
sputter
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| n.喷溅声；v.喷溅 | |
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30
rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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31
shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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32
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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33
formulated
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| v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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34
repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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35
hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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36
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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37
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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38
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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39
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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40
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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41
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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42
timorous
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| adj.胆怯的，胆小的 | |
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43
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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44
proprietors
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| n.所有人，业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
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45
sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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46
salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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47
gardenias
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| n.栀子属植物，栀子花( gardenia的名词复数 ) | |
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48
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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49
sculptor
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| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
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50
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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51
stickler
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| n.坚持细节之人 | |
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52
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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53
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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54
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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55
derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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56
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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57
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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58
dissuade
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| v.劝阻，阻止 | |
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59
consorting
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| v.结伴( consort的现在分词 )；交往；相称；调和 | |
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60
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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61
upbraiding
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| adj.& n.谴责（的）v.责备，申斥，谴责( upbraid的现在分词 ) | |
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62
earnings
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| n.工资收人；利润，利益，所得 | |
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63
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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64
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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65
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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