eta hated just standing around!

They took the Grao road, Pascualo moving his sea-legs frantically to
keep up with that devil of a girl who never walked but she ran, though
with an attractive swaying of her body which made her skirt go up and
down like the marking buoy in a yacht race. Shouldn't he carry her
lunch-box for her? Thanks! She was used to having it on her arm. Didn't
think she could walk so fast without it!

By the time they were at the Sea Bridge, the captain was on the subject
of his boat, as usual. That _Mayflower_ of his could even make him
forget he had a Dolores and a Pascualet! The next morning the
_bou_-fishing began, and all the vessels would go out. "But she's queen
of the lot! We hitched the oxen on to her yesterday, and now she's in
the water, anchored with the other boats in the harbor. But there's no
mistaking her, girl! She strikes your eye like a _senorita_ in the
middle of a bunch of beach-trailers!" He had been in town to get a few
odds and ends still lacking to his equipment. Now he had a dollar to bet
that not one of the rich men in the Cabanal, who sat around at home and
got the best of every load of fish without lifting a finger, could show
a craft half the witch the _Mayflower_ was ... not half.

But the end which comes to everything in this world came also to the
store of nice things the Rector had to say, in his enthusiasm, about his
boat. By the time the pair had reached the bakery of Figuetes, Pascualo
had lapsed into his normal taciturnity, and Roseta held the floor,
dealing with the forewomen in the tobacco factory in terms that such
cattle deserved.

"Work the life out of you, they do! It was all I could do to keep myself
from waiting outside and pulling the topknot of that wench as she came
out! I don't mind about myself so much. Mama and me can get along on
nothing almost. But it's different with others of us. Why, some of
those girls have to sweat like niggers, to feed some loafer of a
husband, and a houseful of brats that wait at the door at night with
their mouths wide open to swallow half the bread in town! What I don't
see is how, in conditions like that, there's a woman left in the world
who can laugh. For instance ..." And the golden-haired Diana, so
insensible to the allurements of men, but reared withal among the
filthy-mouthed ragamuffins of the seashore, struck an air of stern and
serious modesty, and recounted in words of disconcerting directness, but
with a ri