red Dona Rita feverishly, "take me out of this house
before it is too late."

"You will have to stand it," I answered.

"So be it; but then you must go away yourself. Go now, before it is too
late."

I didn't condescend to answer this. The drumming on the panels stopped
and the absurd thunder of it died out in the house. I don't know why
precisely then I had the acute vision of the red mouth of Jose Ortega
wriggling with rage between his funny whiskers. He began afresh but in a
tired tone:

"Do you expect a fellow to forget your tricks, you wicked little devil?
Haven't you ever seen me dodging about to get a sight of you amongst
those pretty gentlemen, on horseback, like a princess, with pure cheeks
like a carved saint? I wonder I didn't throw stones at you, I wonder I
didn't run after you shouting the tale--curse my timidity! But I daresay
they knew as much as I did. More. All the new tricks--if that were
possible."

While he was making this uproar, Dona Rita put her fingers in her ears
and then suddenly changed her mind and clapped her hands over my ears.
Instinctively I disengaged my head but she persisted. We had a short
tussle without moving from the spot, and suddenly I had my head free, and
there was complete silence. He had screamed himself out of breath, but
Dona Rita muttering; "Too late, too late," got her hands away from my
grip and slipping altogether out of her fur coat seized some garment
lying on a chair near by (I think it was her skirt), with the intention
of dressing herself, I imagine, and rushing out of the house. Determined
to prevent this, but indeed without thinking very much what I was doing,
I got hold of her arm. That struggle was silent, too; but I used the
least force possible and she managed to give me an unexpected push.
Stepping back to save myself from falling I overturned the little table,
bearing the six-branched candlestick. It hit the floor, rebounded with a
dull ring on the carpet, and by the time it came to a rest every single
candle was out. He on the other side of the door naturally heard the
noise and greeted it with a triumphant screech: "Aha! I've managed to
wake you up," the very savagery of which had a laughable effect. I felt
the weight of Dona Rita grow on my arm and thought it best to let her
sink on the floor, wishing to be free in my movements and really afraid
that now he had actually heard a noise he would infallibly burst the
door. But he didn'