Another person was also seated
near the fire, whose age might have been anything from twenty-five to
forty-five, for he had, I think, a mixture of Indian blood in his
veins, and one of those smooth, dry, dark faces that change but little
with age. He was an undersized, wiry-looking man with a small, intensely
black moustache, but no whiskers or beard. He seemed to be a person
of some consequence in the house, and when my conductress introduced
him to me as "Don Hilario," he rose to his feet and received me with
a profound bow. In spite of his excessive politeness I conceived a
feeling of distrust towards him from the moment I saw him; and this
was because his small, watchful eyes were perpetually glancing at my
face in a furtive manner, only to glance swiftly away again whenever
I looked at him; for he seemed quite incapable of meeting the gaze of
another. We drank _mate_ and talked a little, but were not a
lively party. Dona Demetria, though she sat with us, scarcely
contributed a word to the conversation; while the long-haired
man--Santos by name, and the only peon on the establishment--smoked
his cigarette and sipped his _mate_ in absolute silence.
Bony old Ramona at length dished up the supper and carried it out of
the kitchen; we followed to the large living-room, where I had been
before, and gathered round a small table; for these people, though
apparently poverty-stricken, ate their meals after the manner of
civilised beings.
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