Under Elvira's direction, the regular operation of the business got back under way. The music of the piano and the laughter of the girls again resonated throughout the house, as did the sound of corks popping and clients demanding this or that. The girls began to go upstairs again with the customers who hurriedly chose them, and money again flowed into the small leather bag that Pepa had turned over to Elvira, who did not hesitate to hang it on her wrist and descend from her lofty status as owner, rather than lose a single peso of profit by leaving the interim management of the business in hands less careful and expert. Only Hipólito's hat did not resume its normal circulation because Santa did not return to pass it around, much to the dismay of both the piano player and two or three potential customers who sat for a long while buying beers for the other girls as they waited. Elvira separately “explained” the situation to each of them:

“Santa's going to be a while. She's in her room with some big shot and … you know … Why don' t you go up with this other one? Don't you like her?”

Yes, yes, they were all pretty, young, and adorable, but the men wanted Santa. And so they opted to wait patiently, impelled by their insatiable desire, in the little parlor, spending their money on liquor, speaking politely to each other, and even chatting amicably if they were already acquainted. Those who did not know each other gradually struck up ephemeral friendships, the kind that arise spontaneously when men drink together and last only as long as it takes to drain a glass, a few minutes, friendships that disappear completely when the conversation ends. The girls took advantage of the wait, flaunting their attractions with unerring instinct in the faces of their impulsive interlocutors, who finally—one by one, pushed by Elvira, by the piano's obscene harmonies, and by the lecherous atmosphere of the house as a whole—resigned themselves to accept a substitute.

“It doesn't matter. Next time I'll get Santa.”

There were a few holdouts, one or two who were determined to have Santa and nobody but Santa:

“Elvira, another round of beer for us and whatever the girls are drinking …”

But as objects of intense yearning and desire tend to do when so long awaited, Santa failed to appear.

Her inexplicable delay in returning now really began to alarm Hipólito and Elvira. What was Santa doing? Had they dared to detain her at the inspection? And Hipólito stopped playing, supposedly because he was tired out. Later, he'd play a bit more, after he had smoked a cigarette. And Elivra walked back and forth, back and forth, between the parlor and the front door. Finally, she saw Jenaro come running with his straw hat in his hand.

“I beat the coach here, wow!” he panted. “Doña Pepa's coming back alone, because Santa's been detained and they're taking her to the hospital.” And he wiped his sweaty brow with a ragged shirt sleeve that hung from his arm in tatters.