The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by Vicente Blasco Ibáñez
page 81 of 502 (16%)
page 81 of 502 (16%)
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of their strength, and making him to recount his nightly escapades as
ringleader of a band of toughs in the Capital. He longed to go to Buenos Aires himself, just to see the youngster in the midst of this gay, wild life. But alas! he was not seventeen like his grandson; he had already passed eighty. "Come here, you false prophet! Tell me how many children you have. . . . You must have a great many children, you know!" "Father!" protested Chicha who was always hanging around, fearing her parent's bad teachings. "Stop nagging at me!" yelled the irate old fellow in a towering temper. "I know what I'm saying." Paternity figured largely in all his amorous fancies. He was almost blind, and the loss of his sight was accompanied by an increasing mental upset. His crazy senility took on a lewd character, expressing itself in language which scandalized or amused the community. "Oh, you rascal, what a pretty fellow you are!" he said, leering at Julio with eyes which could no longer distinguish things except in a shadowy way. "You are the living image of my poor dead wife. . . . Have a good time, for Grandpa is always here with his money! If you could only count on what your father gives you, you would live like a hermit. These Frenchies are a close-fisted lot! But I am looking out for you. Peoncito! Spend and enjoy yourself--that's what your Granddaddy has piled up the silver for!" When the Desnoyers children returned to the Capital, he spent his |
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