though it were an echo of Ferragut's
thought, was singing a romance of the fiesta of Piedigrotta, a
lamentation of melancholy love, a canticle of death, the final mother
of hopeless lovers.

"All a lie!" said Freya, laughing. "These Mediterraneans.... What
comedians they are for love!..."

Ulysses was uncertain as to whether she was referring to him or to the
singer. She continued talking, placid and disdainful at the same time,
because of their surroundings.

"Love,... love! In these countries they can't talk of anything else. It
is almost an industry, somewhat scrupulously prepared for the credulous
and simple people from the North. They all harp on love: this howling
singer, you ... even the oysterman...."

Then she added maliciously:

"I ought to warn you that you have a rival. Be very careful, Ferragut!"

She turned her head in order to look at the oysterman. He was occupied
in the contemplation of a fat lady with grisled hair and abundant
jewels, a lady escorted by her husband, who was looking with
astonishment at the vendor's killing glances without being able to
understand them.

The lady-killer was stroking his mustache affectedly, looking from time
to time at his cloth suit in order to smooth out the wrinkles and brush
off the specks of dust. He was a handsome pirate disguised as a
gentleman. Upon noticing Freya's interest, he changed the course of his
glances, poised his fine figure and replied to her questioning eyes
with the smile of a bad angel, making her understand his discretion and
skillfulness in ingratiating himself behind husbands and escorts.

"There he is!" cried Freya with peals of laughter. "I already have a
new admirer!..."

The swarthy charmer was restrained by the scandalous publicity with
which this lady was receiving his mysterious insinuations. Ferragut
spoke of knocking the scamp down on his oyster shells with a good pair
of blows.

"Now don't be ridiculous," she protested. "Poor man! Perhaps he has a
wife and many children.... He is the father of a family and wants to
take money home."

There was a long silence between the two. Ulysses appeared offended by
the lightness and cruelty of his companion.

"Now don't you be cross," she said. "See here, my shark! Smile a bit.
Show me your teeth.... The libations to the gods are to blame. Are you
offended because I wished to compare you with that clown?... What if
you are the only man that I appreciate at all!... Ulysses, I am