ch all began to clatter as a parting salutation.

The market returned to its usual routine. The vendors were busy with
their custom. Rosario, like a sphinx in dudgeon, stood upright and stiff
behind her counter, indifferent to the passing trade, spots on her
cheeks and temples turning black-and-blue from the buffets they had
received. Dolores kept her back turned toward her enemy, but she was
doing her best to stifle the cries that her pain was almost tearing from
her. _Tia_ Picores seemed to be in a thoughtful mood, as she talked
aloud and in monologue to the fish lying about in front of her. And
those spit-fires would keep at it for the rest of their lives, eh! I
kill you or you kill me! Fine! And all over a man! Men! Men! As though
there weren't enough hogs in the world to go round! But she would put a
stop to it, she would. Any more of their nonsense and she would thrash
them, thrash them both, by God! And perhaps they didn't think she could!
Well, she would see!

Distractedly she seized the lunch that the char-woman brought at eleven
o'clock--a roll of black bread with two dripping chops--and she
swallowed it in a few hurried mouthfuls. Then, wiping her furrowed face
with her dirty, greasy apron, she walked over to her niece's stall,
planted herself with arms folded in front of it, and began her lecture.

That business had got to stop, if you please! The family of _tia_
Picores could not be the talk of the Fishmarket all the time. It had got
to stop! She had made up her mind, and when _tia_ Picores made up her
mind to a thing, she got what she wanted, even if God himself got in the
way, even if she had to lick half of Spain to get it. _Tia_ Picores had
a bit of a temper herself when she got really mad. What had just
happened would be nothing, nothing, compared to the fuss there'd be when
she set out on the warpath. Those girls would have to make up!

"No, no!" Dolores groaned, clenching her fists and shaking her head
decisively.

"No, no! No, no!" mimicked _tia_ Picores. "What's the meaning of that?
No, no! No, no! Like it or lump it, but you make up, you make up! The
idea, such a scandal in the family! And lucky you are in the family,
both of you. That gives you a chance to make up. She tore your ear? Now,
now, Dolores, think of those blows you gave her on the face. Tit for
tat, with tit having a little the best of it. There's a good girl now!
No, no--no use arguing ... you just mind your auntie!"

And thenc