to herself and her good-natured
husband; and she was not going to let the Fishmarket have a day's fun at
her expense. "Close your mouth, deary, before you slip and fall into
it! Don't be bitter! You can't have all the men there are. You're
envious!" "Me, envious!" Rosario retorted. "Envious of your reputation,
I suppose,--the best in the Cabanal, as even the lamp-post knows!
Thanks! I'm a decent woman, I am, I never tried to get another girl's
husband!" "And whose husband could you get with that sculpin-face? No,
dearest, no one is jealous of you!" And Rosario, growing paler than
ever, sunk her nails into her clenched hands, while Dolores, her fists
on her hips, wreathed her delicious countenance in a smile, which seemed
to serve for volumes of insults.

The joy of combat had taken possession of the whole portico. Idlers had
gathered in throngs at the doors. The fish-women were leaning far
forward over their counters with the eager appetites of furies, clacking
their tongues as though they were sicking two dogs upon each other and
banging on their scales to applaud each cutting thrust. It was time for
Dolores to fall back on the _ultima ratio_ of a fish-woman's contempt.

"Look, Rosario! Don't talk to me! Talk to this!"

And she turned squarely around and, bending slightly, registered a
resonant slap on the pair of spacious hips that trembled under her
calico skirt with all the elasticity of her firm flesh.

This _trovata_ had immense success with the audience. Women fell from
their chairs in the contortions of laughter. The tunny-men in the near
section doubled up in the gripes of joy, while the hilarity found its
outer boundaries in the meat-market, stalls and stalls away. Staid
gentlemen from town set their baskets down to do full justice with their
clapping hands to the beauty and the wit of the inimitable Dolores.

But the triumph of the Rector's wife was of short duration. As she
looked around to see the effect her blow had had, a handful of sardines
struck her full in the face. Rosario was blind with fury. "Come out of
that stall! Show your face out here where I can get at you, you
low-lived street-walker!" And Dolores did show her face. Rolling her
sleeves up still higher, as though clearing for action, she strode forth
from her stall, her eyes aglow with the enthusiasm of combat. Toward her
Rosario came running, brushing aside the arms that tried to restrain
her, aquiver with rage from head to foot and shr