THE WOMAN FROM MEXICO
13
"Why
please
me?" asked Sergio in surprise.
The other man went on: "Albina is a . . .," and here he
uttered an ugly word that startled Sergio, who could not bear
such language, especially in relation to women. "I was com–
pletely fed up with her ... and so I told her to get out. That
pleases you, doesn't it?"
"It doesn't please me in the least," said Sergio, embarrassed;
"on the contrary, I'm sorry ..."
Luciano stopped and looked him up and down with a
sardonic expression. "You're a nice kind of person," he said.
"So you're sorry, are you? Say it again, won't you?"
"Yes, I'm sorry."
"You're shameless, into the bargain."
"But I ..."
"You like Albina--quite a lot, don't you? And now you're
pleased that she isn't living with me any longer ..." Luciano
paused for a moment, relishing, apparently, the
bitteme~
con–
tained in these words. Then he added contemptuously: "A fine
sort
of friend, certainly . . . but of course
all
friends are the
same. They all aim at making a cuckold of you."
Sergio was astonished. He did not remember ever having
paid any particular attention to Albina on the two or three
occasions on which he had seen her in Luciano's company; nor
did he remember observing that Albina had taken any interest
in
him. Somewhat nervously he said: "But I assure you that
I ..."
His friend interrupted him. "D'you really think I didn't
notice you that day when we went to the races and then had
dinner together? I'm not blind, you know ... Anyhow, it's
human ..."
"But that day-really ..."
"Now," said Luciano, stopping in front of a small entrance–
door in a side street, "this is where Albina lives. I had to come
