m of a page, Martinez would find
the two black eyes of _sina_ Tona nailed upon him; and he would blush
and go on reading. Then afterwards the tavern keeper would be ashamed of
herself. The idea! When Pascualo was alive, she had looked at the fellow
casually once or twice, because she thought his face was interesting.
But now she sat there looking and looking and looking, like a fool! What
would people say if they ever caught her at it! Of course! She liked
him! And why not? So handsome, and such fine manners! And how well he
could talk! But after all, that was absurd. She was well on toward
forty, thirty-six or so, she couldn't just remember. And he, well,
twenty-four at the outside! But then again, and then again! What
difference did a few years make? She was not so bad looking. She carried
her age well. To settle that question, just listen to the men off the
boats who were always pestering her! And if it was all so absurd, why
were people gossiping about it? The other patrolmen, friends of
Martinez, and the fish-women on the beach, were always teasing them with
indirect allusions which, if anything, were too direct.

And the expected happened. To silence her own misgivings, _sina_ Tona
argued that her boys needed a father, and Martinez was just the man. The
courageous Amazon, who would cudgel the roughest sailor at the slightest
flippancy, herself took the initiative, overcoming the bashfulness of
that timid overgrown boy; and he, submissive rather than seeking,
allowed things to take their course, like a superior being with thoughts
absorbed in higher things, and responding to affairs of earth like an
automaton.

The matter did not remain long secret; nor was Tona displeased at the
talk. She wanted it known that the tavern had a man in charge. When she
had something to attend to in the Cabanal, she left the shop in care of
Martinez, who sat, as he had always sat, under the shelter, looking out
to sea with the rifle across his knees. Even the two boys understood
that something was going on. "The Rector," on his turns ashore, would
look at his mother with a perplexed expression on his face, and he was
timid and ashamed in the presence of that big yellow-headed youth in
uniform whom he always found about the tavern. Not so Tonet. That rascal
smiled broadly all the time, reflecting the gibes and sarcasms he had
picked up along shore. And he ceased to be at all impressed at the
sermons of the patrolman, which he now rebu