“Thy bed is of jasmins, Thy sheets of white roses; Of lilies thy pillows, And a dark rose there poses.”
There followed an angry scene between her and the gipsy. They fought, but I stepped between, for I loathe to see women fighting. They do it badly and dangerously. When it was all over, a gendarme came, and after slapping Concha upon the cheeks put her in another compartment. The train now went forward again, and my companions began to sleep. The image of the little singer tormented me. Where had he put her? I leant over the barrier of my carriage, and saw that she was there, close enough to touch. She was sleeping like a tired child. I saw the closed lids, the long lashes, the little nose and two small lips, that seemed to be at one and the same time infantile and sensual. Gazing for a long time at those amazing lips, I wondered whether their dream movements were recalling the breast that nursed her or the lips of a lover.
Daylight came, and with it the end of the journey. I aided the little Concha to get together six parcels, and offered to carry them but was refused. She managed with them somehow, and ran off. I soon lost sight of her.
You see, do you not, this first meeting was insignificant, almost vague. She had interested and amused me for a little while. That was really all. Soon I ceased to think of her at all.
The following summer I found her again. In August, I was alone in my house, a house that a feminine presence had filled for years. One afternoon, bored to death, I visited the Government Tobacco Manufactory of Seville. It was a sweltering day. I entered alone, which was a favour, in this immense harem of about five thousand women-workers, of a rather free-and-easy type.
I have said the day was terribly hot? Most of the workers were half-dressed only. It was a mixed spectacle, certainly: a sort of panorama of women at all ages. I passed along, sometimes being asked for a gift, sometimes being given a cynical pleasantry. Suddenly I recognized Concha, and asked her what brought her into that place.
“When girls go there through the door, they leave through the window.”
“I will be honest with you. I didn’t enter at all for fear of sinning. Give me a coin, and I will sing you something while the superintendent is away from here.”