Never had I taken so sudden and violent a dislike
to anything as I then and there did to that estancia, where I was an
honoured, albeit a compulsory guest. The hot, brilliant morning sunshone
down on the discoloured thatch and mud-plastered walls of the
sordid-looking building, while all about wherever I cast my eyes they
rested on weeds, old bones, broken bottles, and other rubbish--eloquent
witnesses of the dirty, idle, thriftless character of the inmates.
Meanwhile my sweet, angelic child-wife, with her violet eyes dim with
tears, was waiting for me far away in Montevideo, wondering at my long
absence, and even now perhaps shading her face with her lily hand and
looking out on the white dusty road watching for my arrival! And here
I was compelled to sit, idly swinging my legs on the gate, because
that abominable fat woman had taken a fancy to keep me by her! Feeling
mad with indignation, I suddenly jumped down from the gate with an
exclamation not intended for ears polite, causing my hostess to jump
also and utter a scream; for there she was (confound her!) standing
just behind me.
"The Saints defend me!" she exclaimed, recovering herself and laughing;
"what made you startle me so?"
I apologised for the strong expression I had used; then added, "Senora,
I am a young man full of energy and accustomed to take a great deal
of exercise every day, and I am getting very impatient sitting here
basking in the sunshine, like a turtle on a bank of mud.
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