He sometimes wished to have in his arm all the blind forces of Nature in order to blot out his enemies with one blow.

It annoyed him to see them established in his country, to have to pass them daily without protest and without aggression, respecting them because the laws demanded it.
He used to like to stroll among the flower stands of the Rambla, between the two walls of recently-cut flowers that were still guarding in their corollas the dews of daybreak.

Each iron table was a pyramid formed of all the hues of the rainbow and all the fragrance that the earth can bring forth.
The fine weather was beginning.

The trees of the Ramblas were covering themselves with leaves and in their shady branches were twittering thousands of birds with the deafening tenacity of the crickets.
The captain found special enjoyment in surveying the ladies in lace mantillas who were selecting bouquets in the refreshing atmosphere.

No situation, however anguished it might be, ever left him insensible to feminine attractions.
One morning, passing slowly through the crowds, he noticed that a woman was following him.