Tony wrote that he would always remember Pilar's mother, known as "The Little Spanish Dancer." He also asked Pilar whether she, too, would become a dancer when she grew up.
"Oh, Grandfather!" she cried. "What a kind man Señor Tony is! How much I love him! How I wish to be a dancer like my mother! Shall we have eggs or stew for dinner?" She had said it all in one breath. She rushed to open the door on her way to market, adding, "I shall be right ba--pf-f-f!"
With a terrible thud, Pilar had bumped into a tall gentleman who stood at the door. It was the great dancing master.
"Good evening," he said. "Are you Señorita Pilar?"
Pilar backed into the room. She looked like a scared little rabbit. What did he want? Had he come to take her castanets?
"Ah, yes, you are the Señorita Pilar," continued the gentleman. He came into the room, closed the door behind him, and sat down calmly.
"And this, I believe, is señor, your grandfather. No?" He smiled at the old man, who lay quietly in his bed. "You see, I found out all about you, señorita. After you ran away from me in the garden, I made up my mind to follow you, and I did."
"You cannot have the castanets!" she cried.
She was standing in the center of the room, and her face was white with fury. Her small body was drawn up, rigid and tense.
"I'll never let you have them!" she screamed. "They're mine! Mine! Mine!"
She stamped her foot and threw back her head. But the tall gentleman did not seem in the least disturbed. He just sat there looking at her and smiling as if he were watching a play.
Indeed, one had the impression that he might begin to clap at any moment. But he did not.
Instead, he just laughed good-naturedly and said, "What a little firecracker you are! And how graceful, too! Now, listen, child."
He had stopped smiling. He leaned forward and spoke to Pilar in a serious voice.
"Listen to me, Pilar," he said. "I do not want your castanets if you do not care to sell them to me. But--" He hesitated for a moment while Pilar stared at him, still with that look of anger and fear in her eyes. "But I do want something else!"
Pilar's grandfather raised himself upon his pillow. "What is it that you wish, Señor?" he asked.
"The Little Spanish Dancer!" replied the gentleman. "I want Pilar!"