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.It was too late, he said, not daring to look her in the eye, to be out alone trying to find a carriage.So he put on a jacket, picked up his walking stick and top hat, and went down the stairs ahead of her.At the door he stopped and, after a brief hesitation that did not escape her, offered her his arm with all the icy courtesy he could muster.The young woman leaned on him and, as they walked along, turned now and then to glance at him with a look of concealed mockery.Don Jaime hired a calash whose driver was dozing, leaning against a lamppost, they got in, and Don Jaime gave the address.The carriage went down Calle Arenal, turning to the right when it reached the Palacio de Oriente.Don Jaime remained silent, his hands resting on the handle of his walking stick, vainly trying to keep his mind a blank.What might have happened did not happen, but he was not sure if he should congratulate himself or despise himself As for what Adela de Otero might be thinking at that moment he had absolutely no desire to know However one certainty floated in the air- that night at the end of a conversation that should have brought them closer something had been broken between them definitively and forever He did not know what but there was the unmistakable noise of pieces shattering to the ground about him The young woman would never forgive him for his cowardice—or for his resignation.They drove in silence, each occupying a corner of the red-upholstered seat.Sometimes, when they passed beneath a lamppost, a fragment of light spilled into the carriage, allowing Don Jaime to catch a glimpse of his companion's profile, absorbed in the contemplation of the shadows filling the streets.He would have liked to say something to relieve the unease tormenting him, but he feared that he would only make matters worse.The whole thing was utterly absurd.After a while, Señora de Otero turned to him."I've been told, Don Jaime, that you have people of quality among your clientele.Is that right?""It is.""People from the nobility too? I mean counts, dukes, and all that."Don Jaime was relieved to embark on a topic of conversation completely different from that which had taken place in his house a while before.She was doubtless conscious that things might have gone too far.Perhaps, sensing his awkwardness, she was trying to break the ice after that embarrassing situation in which she too had played some part."Some, yes," he replied, "but not many, I confess.The days are long gone when a maître d'armes of some prestige could set himself up in Vienna or Saint Petersburg and be named captain of an imperial regiment.The nobility today have little interest in practicing my art.""And who are the honorable exceptions?"Don Jaime shrugged."Two or three.The son of the Conde de Sueca, the Marqués de los Alumbres.""Luis de Ayala?"He looked at her, making no attempt to conceal his surprise."You know Don Luis?""I've heard people talk about him," she said with perfect indifference."I've heard that he's one of the best swordsmen in Madrid."He nodded, pleased."He is.""Better than me?" Now there was a note of interest in her voice.He snorted, finding himself in a tight spot."You have completely different styles."Señora de Otero adopted a frivolous tone."I would love to fence with him.They say he's a most interesting man.""I'm afraid that's impossible.""Why? I don't see what the difficulty is.""Well, I mean.""I'd like to have a couple of bouts with him.Have you taught him the two-hundred-escudo thrust as well?"Don Jaime shifted uneasily in his seat.He was worried by the fact that he was worried."Your request, Doña Adela, is a little, urn, irregular," he said, frowning: "I don't know if the marquis.""Are you very close?""Well, he honors me with his friendship, if that's what you mean."She took his arm with such girlish enthusiasm that Don Jaime found it hard to recognize the young woman who, only half an hour before, had been talking to him in the grave intimacy of his studio."There's no problem, then!" she exclaimed, satisfied."Tell him about me; tell him the truth, that I'm good with a foil, and I'm sure he'll want to meet me: after all, a woman who fences."Don Jaime stammered a few rather unconvincing excuses, but she resumed her assault."By now, maestro, you must be aware that I know no one in Madrid, apart from you.I'm a woman, and I can't go knocking on doors with my foil beneath my arm.""I should hope not!" Don Jaime's exclamation arose this time from his sense of decorum."You see? I would die of embarrassment.""It's not just that.Don Luis de Ayala is very strict in matters of fencing.I don't know what he would think if a woman.""You took me on, maestro.""Exactly.I'm a fencing master by profession.Don Luis de Ayala's profession is being a marquis
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