How get to know her better, then?... Rafael was tempted as he walked
aimlessly about the streets, to look up the barber Cupido in his shop
that very afternoon. That merry rogue was the only person in all Alcira
who entered her house. But Brull did not dare, for fear of gossip. His
dignity as a party leader forbade his entering that barbershop where the
walls were papered with copies of "Revolution" and where a picture of Pi
y Margall reigned in place of the King's. How could he justify his
presence in a place he had never visited before? How explain to Cupido
his interest in that woman, without having the whole city know about it
before sundown?

Twice he walked up and down in front of the striped window-panes of the
barbershop, without mustering the courage to raise the latch. Finally he
sauntered off toward the orchards, following the riverbank slowly along,
with his gaze fixed on that blue house, which had never before attracted
his attention, but which now seemed the most beautiful detail in that
ample paradise of orange-trees.

Through the groves he could see the balcony of the house, and on it a
woman unfolding shining gowns of delicate colors. She was shaking the
prima donna's skirts to straighten out the wrinkles and the folds caused
by the packing in the trunks.

It was the Italian maid--that Beppa of the reddish hair whom he had seen
the previous afternoon with her mistress.

He thought the girl was looking at him, and that she even recognized
him through the foliage, despite the distance. He felt a sudden
timorousness, like a child caught redhanded doing something wrong. He
turned in his tracks and strode rapidly off toward the city.