The situation of Cifuentes’ go-between had become even more secure as a result; she had made herself indispensable in bringing his machinations to their desired conclusion. What better person to turn to than Doña Mercedes, with all of her experience? This was an intrigue among fine, upstanding people, however, so it was necessary to proceed with a certain degree of dissembling. First, the facts had to be concealed from the ever-suspicious Isabel, who had patiently endured her husband’s passing adventures with her inferiors but could not be expected to react the same way to a rivalry with a woman who was her social equal. Care had to be taken as well to avoid arousing the jealousy of Fernando Ulloa, La Alazana’s husband. Perhaps those precautions were exaggerated. Men from other parts who have seen a bit of the world are often not as punctilious as the gentlemen of Ciudad Real when it comes to matters of honor.

La Alazana herself, who had bestowed her friendship upon Doña Mercedes (thereby demonstrating the commonness of her spirit), complained of Fernando’s indifference. She was not too reticent to confess that just two years before they had run away together, so in love that they dared to defy their families’ opposition and society’s prejudices. We legalized our life together afterward, La Alazana hurried to add. But Doña Mercedes Solórzano, who was well versed in the world’s ways, would not have put her hand in the fire to attest to the truth of this statement. She was careful not to let her conjectures rise to the surface.

She smiled with a gleam of her gold-capped teeth and skillfully asked more questions, inciting further confidences, in order later’ to give a full account of every detail of the conversation, as Cifuentes demanded.

“We’ve been through a lot of hard times together, Fernando and I. But that doesn’t bother me. It was all right because we loved each other. But now an ambition, I don’t know what for, has taken hold of him. Every day his indifference is more obvious. He doesn’t notice me any more.”

“Why don’t you leave him, niña?” the go-between asked slyly. “For a woman of your class, all this going from place to place like a stray puppy is no good. It’s not for nothing they say the rolling stone gathers no moss.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. And what would become of me if I left my husband? I can’t go back to my parents’ house.”

“You’d have more than enough protection, niña. Look at you, so pretty. . .

La Alazana’s expression of distaste (not very energetic, not like someone trying to defend her honor; more like someone who feels her modesty has been wounded) prevented Doña Mercedes from completing the compliment.