The silence and solitude of the Claverias were undisturbed, it seemed as though the people hidden in their houses remained absolutely still, guessing the danger that was passing.
Gabriel, leaning on the balustrade, watched the cardinal enter the lower cloister, walking round two sides till he came to the garden gate.

A slight gesture from the prelate was sufficient to stop the two servants, and he walked on alone through the central avenue towards the summer-house where Tomasa was fast asleep between its leafy walls, her knitting in her hands.
The old woman awoke at the sound of footsteps, and seeing the prelate, gave a cry of surprise.
"Don Sebastian! You here!" "I wished to visit you," said the cardinal with a benevolent smile, seating himself on a bench.

"It must not be always you who come to seek me.

I owe you many visits, and here I am." Plunging one hand into the depths of his cassock, he drew forth a small gold case and lighted a cigarette.

He stretched out his legs with the complacency of one who being always accustomed to wear the frowning brow of authority, finds himself for a few moments at liberty.
"But have you not been ill ?" inquired the gardener's widow.