And
once she was as like her father as--oh, and such a heart! But she will
become--I fear it now--like her mother. And her mother does not want
Torellas.
"'And Torellas! A torero, yes. But whether a man is muletero, vaquero,
or torero, what matters it? Torellas has been all three, and I, too--I,
her brother-in-law, but what matters it? Luis, my brother, was, oh, so
poor when they married, but, my friend, I who say it--I, his brother--a
scamp possibly, yes, but we had family. A handsome boy was Luis, and
she--I admit it--very beautiful and good. But Luis--Luis becomes
wealthy. At once the senora must have a grand son-in-law. Torellas is a
toreador,--yes,--but also Torellas is something more than that. The
strong arm, the quick eye, the'--Juan slapped himself on the left
breast--'the brave heart, yes. But more than that. I know, senor, I who
have been'--he touched them off on succeeding finger-tips--'gaucho in
Argentina, cowboy in your country, a soldier in the Chilean war,
horse-breaker--but I have not fingers sufficient--I who have roamed far,
I know men. And Torellas--but you have seen him, senor? Ah-h--then you,
too, know. Is he not a man? Ah-h--and surely a man can be but a man. And
Torellas,'--Juan pounded the table,--'he is a man--Pir-r'--Juan whirled
in his chair--'_Pedro, cafe_--_al instante. Tres, si, si_--_tres_.'
"'But, Juan,' asks Ferrero when the coffee came, 'a few months ago we
thought--'
"'Exactly--we all thought.
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