In an instant, Elvira made up a lie to preserve her business reputation and Santa's, and to get rid of the obstinate customers who were still waiting for her. Santa had gone out to dinner without informing her:

“It's those club gentlemen who won't leave her alone for a moment! Just goes to show … So there's nothing for it but to come back tomorrow, good and early.”

Hipólito asked for his hat and his cane and left without saying a word amid the general panic that the news had produced:

“Take me to the police station, Jenaro, and fast!”

At the door, he was stopped by Pepa and el Jarameño, who were arriving together, having met at the curb where Pepa was climbing out of her coach. The bullfighter had come for his daily visit, and, on the way inside, as they skirted the small park area, Pepa told the bullfighter the news, which, at first, he did not seem to think very significant. What was the fuss about? But as soon as Pepa explained in grim and highly dramatic detail that it meant jail, suffering, detention, the hospital, he got the picture. And then, in the manner of someone who removes a disguise that no longer matters, he practically declared his love for Santa:

“I don't know stuff about justice or nothing, and I really don't like to deal with the authorities, all I need is a Bible to get married, as they say, but if someone can take me to Santa, I'll get her out of there, by God, I will!”

Elvira and Pepa, neither of whom gave a thought to recent rumors about the piano player's feelings for Santa—a passion that nobody took seriously, anyway—simultaneously designated Hipólito with gestures of their heads and hands.

“Here's Hipo, who can take you … Hipo, take el Jarameño, you know where …”

Imagine the anguish and revulsion that coursed through Hipólito's body upon receiving such inhumane instructions. How could he … how could he take his abhorrent rival to Santa and become the tool by which el Jarameño would finally win her? The blind man actually took several steps back, as if he had suddenly lost his balance. He raised his hands to fend off dangers that sighted people around him were unable to discern, as they watched him and waited anxiously.

The struggle was over quickly, lasting only seconds, each of which seemed to Hipólito as interminable as a year. It was his love for her that forced his decision, his love that in spite of all the torment could still, with a little encouragement, spill through his veins in a simulacrum of happiness. And the decision shattered his insides, paining him to a degree unimaginable before this moment—his mouth bitter, his legs trembling, and his heart … his heart totally out of control. It beat wildly, with stabbing pains that made him raise his hands to his chest involuntarily, though he disguised the reaction by pretending to look for something in his vest pocket …