"Yes, Porfirio," said she, poor soul.

"You, and that she-wolf over there--what have you to say?"

"I say," said Nonna, "that the young gentleman is out of his wits."

Aurelia said, "I am wretched. He was very foolish."

"You have deceived me," he thundered at her, "made a fool of me at your
ease. You spoke your wheedling words, and he was in there to listen, and
to laugh, by my soul! You coaxed, you stroked, you sidled, you
whispered, and he was in there laughing, laughing, laughing! Oh, madam,
you talk of his young foolishness, but you make your profit of my old
foolishness."

"It is false," said Aurelia. "I never did it."

"By my soul," says he, "I'll not be contradicted. I say that you do. O
Heaven, is this your duty, your gratitude, your thanks due to me? Why--
why--why--what did I take you from? What did I make of you? Your
wretched mother---"

She looked up with flashing eyes. There was danger to be seen on its
way. "She is not wretched."

"Then she should be, madam," he said. "She is parent of a wicked, false--"

Aurelia, crying, shook to get free. "No, no! Be silent. You shall not
say such things." She stamped her foot. "It is absurd, I won't have it,"
she said. He gave a strangling cry of rage and despair, released her and