The landlady, the Biscayan and several of the boarders tiptoed into
the corridor to pry. Inside the quarrellers must have realized that
they were being spied upon, for they opened the door and the fray
continued in low tones.

Manuel and the landlady's niece remained in the entry. They could hear
Irene's sobbing and the scolding voices of Celia and Dona Violante.

At first they could not make out what was being said; but soon the
three women forgot their determination to speak low and their voices
rose in anger.

"Go! Go to the House of Mercy and have them rid you of that swelling!
Wretch!" cried Celia.

"Well, what of it?" retorted Irene. "I'm caught, am I? I know it. What
of it?"

Dona Violante opened the door to the entry furiously; Manuel and the
landlady's niece scampered off, and the old lady came out in a patched
flannel shift and a weed kerchief tied about her ears, and began to
pace to and fro, dragging her worn-out shoes from end to end of the
corridor.

"The sow! Worse than a sow!" she muttered. "Did any one ever see such
a filthy creature!"

Manuel went off to the parlour, where the landlady and the Biscayan
were chatting in low tones. The landlady's niece, dying with
curiosity, questioned the two women with growing irritation: