"'I do not understand you.'

"'You will understand me when I tell you that I did meet her again, three
weeks ago, a few hours before I had the fatal news of my poor Joaquina's
death.'

"'Tell me about it, tell me about it!'

"'There is little more to tell. It was five o'clock in the morning. It was
not yet fully light, though the dawn was visible from the streets looking
towards the east. The street-lamps had just been put out, and the
policemen had withdrawn. As I was going through Prado Street, so as to get
to the other end of Lobo Street, the dreadful woman crossed in front of
me. She did not look at me, and I thought she had not seen me.

"'She wore the same dress and carried the same fan as three years before.
My trepidation and alarm were greater than ever. I ran rapidly across
Prado Street as soon as she had passed, although I did not take my eyes
off her, so as to make sure that she did not look back, and, when I had
reached the other end of Lobo Street, I panted as if I had just swum an
impetuous stream. Then I pressed on with fresh speed towards home, filled
now with gladness rather than fear, for I thought that the hateful witch
had been conquered and shorn of her power, from the very fact that I had
been so near her and yet that she had not seen me.

"'But soon, and when I had almost reached this house, a rush of fear swept
over me, in the thought that the crafty old hag had seen and recognized
me, that she had made a pretence of not knowing me so as to let me get
into Lobo Street, where it was still rather dark, and where she might set
upon me in safety, that she would follow me, that she was already over me.