And she went on in that half-scolding, half-advising manner, detailing for Santa the hygienic measures indispensable in minimizing the risks of the profession. She said everything with extraordinary knowledge and aplomb, without allowing herself to be interrupted, even when she had to pause for breath, on which occasions she maintained Santa's silence with a look or gesture before resuming her discourse. Without hesitation or embarrassment, she called the most incredible things by their exact names; this should be done in such and such a way, that in another way; some men have this weakness, some that one; there are a thousand sorts of fakery that, although repugnant at first, should definitely be cultivated. And so on, in a complete catechism, the perfected manual for the resourceful, modern prostitute in an elegant establishment. Elvira's recommendations and mandates were so naked that they almost lost their immorality. She presented her dicta in such a natural and straightforward manner that one could easily mistake her for an austere English governess correcting a clumsy pupil. Only once in a while did a casual, energetic expletive, which Elvira pronounced without the slightest self-consciousness, break the spell. Some governess, indeed! Only an old prostitute, rotten in mind and body, could formulate such theories, argue their utility, and encourage their practice! In the course of her peroration, she sat down beside Santa and, noting the girl's shock, used her inveterate dissembler's skills to present the other side of the coin: heck, it wasn't so scary as all that, and to the contrary, one found it a more acceptable and comfortable way of life than many others.

The ones who end up in the hospital are just lipendis … that is, scatterbrained and silly,” she explained, seeing Santa's expression upon hearing her southern Spanish slang, “but the girl who doesn't mess around and learns the ropes early on, well … doesn't have to worry about hospitals and jails. Somebody put together like you are can go a long, long way, get it? Jewels, a carriage, and money, money, money, as we say. Right? As for men, they're a bunch of miserable pigs. They can pitch their little fits all they want, but they can't go without their nooky …”

Then, after a pause, she continued more reflectively:

“The meaner we are to them, the more they adore us, and the more we lie to them, the more obsessed they are with us. Do you know why they'd rather be with us than with their wives and girlfriends, why they're after us and not them? You don't know? Well, it's precisely because their wives and girlfriends are sweet and modest (some of them, anyway) and we're not. That's why. We taste really different, you could say, spicy, sometimes too spicy, while the other ones always taste the same, bland, and they get tired of that …”

Elvira fell silent. Pepa leaned back against the wardrobe, and Santa, her heart in her throat, hung her head. What she was seeing and hearing discouraged and disgusted her completely. She had to get out of there.