Page:Plays by Jacinto Benavente - Second series (IA playsbyjacintobe00bena).pdf/125



. I told you he wasn't here. He won't come to-night, either. He tells me that he is coming so that I won't look for him where I know he is, where I am going some night to dig a knife into his heart, if he deceives me.

. You talk like a fool. Kill a man, eh? Don't you do it, and don't you kill yourself for him, either. He'll be back after you some day soon enough, when you don't want it.

. No, he'll never come back. He has money now. Didn't you see? Do you know where he gets all his money?

. Of course I do! Do you suppose I'd kill mine for that? When mine bothers me is when he hasn't any money. When he has, I never ask him where he gets it. Do they ask us?

. But I don't love anybody but him, and he knows it.

. And he loves you; the boy has to live. You ought to be glad of it; it isn't right that you should be the only one who works. Come on, now, and dance. If he thinks you've forgotten him and are in love with some one else, he'll come back fast enough. He'll get tired, like all the rest. You can find people who are willing to hand out a hundred francs, five hundred francs, a thousand francs—but it's only once, because they happen to feel like it, but when it comes to five or ten francs every day, or whatever you've got, and if 101