watching.

She then approached the glass door of the dining-room and looked
cautiously through it, from a little distance, fearing that those within
might perceive her. By the light of the dining-room lamp she saw her
mother sitting with her back toward her. The Penitentiary was on her
right, and his profile seemed to undergo a strange transformation, his
nose grew larger and larger, seeming like the beak of some fabulous
bird; and his whole face became a black silhouette with angles here and
there, sharp derisive, irritating. In front of him sat Caballuco, who
resembled a dragon rather than a man. Rosario could see his green eyes,
like two lanterns of convex glass. This glow, and the imposing figure
of the animal, inspired her with fear. Uncle Licurgo and the other three
men appeared to her imagination like grotesque little figures. She had
seen somewhere, doubtless in some of the clay figures at the fairs, that
foolish smile, those coarse faces, that stupid look. The dragon moved
his arms which, instead of gesticulating, turned round, like the arms of
a windmill, and the green globes, like the lights of a pharmacy, moved
from side to side. His glance was blinding. The conversation appeared
to be interesting. The Penitentiary was flapping his wings. He was a
presumptuous bird, who tried to fly and could not. His beak lengthened
itself, twisting round and round. His feathers stood out, as if with
rage; and then, collecting himself and becoming pacified, he hid his
bald head under his wings. Then the little clay figures began to move,
wishing to be persons, and Frasquito Gonzalez was trying to pass for a
man.

Rosario felt an inexplicable terror, witnessing this friendly
conference. She went away from the door and advanced, step by step,
looking around her to see if she was observed. Although she saw no one,