ora, why you look at me so? Are you envious?" Dona
Victorina finally succeeded in saying.

"I envious of you?" said the Medusa with scorn. "O, yes! I envy
those curls."

"Come, wife!" said the doctor. "Do--don't take no--no--notice of her!"

"Let me give this shameless common person a lesson!" replied the woman,
giving her husband a push. He nearly fell to the ground. Turning to
Dona Consolacion, she continued:

"Look how you treat me! Don't think that I am a provincial, or a
soldiers' querida! In my house in Manila alferezas never are allowed
to come in. They wait at the door."

"Oh-oh! Most Excellent Senora! Alferezas don't enter, but invalids
like that out there. Ha, ha, ha!"

If it hadn't been for all the paint on her face, one could have seen
Dona Victorina blush. She wanted to throw herself upon her enemy,
but the sentry stopped her. In the meantime, the street was filling
up with curious people.

"Listen! I lower myself talking with you. People of categoria ... Do
you want my clothes to wash? I will pay you well. Do you think that
I don't know that you are a washerwoman?"

Dona Consolacion became furious. The reference to her being a
washerwoman wounded her.

"Do you think that we do not know what you are? Get out! My husband has
already told me. Senora, I, at least, have not belonged to more than
one man, but you? One must be pretty hard up to take the leavings."

This shot struck Dona Victorina square in the breast. She rolled up
her sleeves, clenched her fists, and, gnashing her teeth, began:

"Come down here, you nasty old thing, that I may smash your filthy
mouth."

The Medusa disappeared quickly from the window, but was soon seen
coming down the stairs on a run, swinging her husband's whip.

Don Tiburcio interposed, pleading with them, but they would have come
to blows if the alferez had not arrived.

"But, senoras!... Don Tiburcio!"

"Teach your woman better; buy her better clothes. If you haven't
the money, rob the people. You have your soldiers for that!" shouted
Dona Victorina.

"Senora," said the alferez furiously. "Thank yourself that I don't
forget that you are a woman; for if you were not, I would kick you
to pieces, with all your curls and ribbons."

"Se--se--senor al--alferez!" said Don Tiburcio.

"Go ahead! Kill us! You don't wear big enough trousers, you quack."

And so the battle waged: words, gestures, cries, insults, and
injuries. They brought out all the nasty things