“‘All right, Cæsar, I am happy to see you. I see that you remember our conversation in Rome. You must have lunch with me and my family.’
“‘With great pleasure.’
“‘I’ll go and tell them to put on another place.’
“Don Calixto went out and left me alone. For a while I studied the boss’s office. On the wall, diplomas, appointments, in looking-glass frames; a genealogical tree, probably drawn day before yesterday; in a book-case, legal books...
“Don Calixto came back; he asked me if I was tired, and I told him no, and when we had crossed the whole width of the house, which is huge, he showed me the garden. My boy, what a wonderful spot! It hangs over the river and it is a marvel. The highest part, which is the part they keep up, isn’t worth much; it is in lamentable style; just imagine, there is a fountain which is a tin negro that spurts out water from all parts.
“However, the old part of the garden, the lower part, is lovely. There is a big tower standing guard over the river, now converted into a belvedere, with pomegranates, rose-bushes, and climbing plants all around it, and above all, there is an oleander that is a marvel...; it looks like a fire-work castle or a shower of flowers.”
“Leave that point,” said Alzugaray. “You are talking like a poor disciple of Ruskin’s.”
“You are right. But when you see those gardens, you will be enthusiastic, too.”
“Get ahead.”