y. His feet were
like ice, this waiting in the cold was putting him in a terrible mood.
Then he went and sat down on another bench near the servant in black,
who had the two dogs at his knees. They were sitting on their hind paws,
resting with as much dignity as real people, watching that gentleman
with their gray eyes that winked intelligently, as he looked at them
attentively and then moved his pencil on the book that rested on his
knee. The painter sketched the two dogs in different postures, giving
himself up to the work with such interest that he quite forgot his
purpose in coming there. Oh, what splendid creatures! Renovales loved
animals in which beauty was united with strength. If he had lived alone
and could have consulted his own tastes, he would have converted his
house into a menagerie.

The servant went away with his dogs and the artist once more was left
alone. Several couples passed slowly, arm in arm, and disappeared behind
the palace toward the gardens below. Then a group of school boys that
left behind them, as their cassocks fluttered, that odor of healthy,
dirty flesh that is peculiar to barracks and convents. And still the
countess did not come!

The painter went again to rest his elbows on the balustrade of the
belvedere. He would only wait a half an hour longer. The afternoon was
wearing away; the sun was still high, but from time to time the
landscape was darkened. The clouds that had been confined on the horizon
had been let loose and they were rolling through the field of the sky
like a flock of sheep, assuming fantastic shapes, rushing eagerly in
tumultuous confusion as if they wished to swallow the ball of fire that
was slipping slowly over a bit of clear blue sky.

Suddenly, Renovales felt a sort of shock near his heart. No one had
touched him; it was a warning of his nerves that for some time had been
especially irritable. She was near, was coming he was sure. And turning
around, he saw her, still a long way off, coming down the avenue, in
black with a fur coat, her hands in a little muff and a veil over her
eyes. Her tall, graceful silhouette was outlined against the yellow
ground as she passed the trees. Her carriage was returning up the hill,
perhaps to wait for her at the top near the School of Agriculture.

As she met him in the center of the square she held out her gloved hand,
warm from the muff, and they turned toward the belvedere, chatting.

"I'm in a furious mood, disgusted