She stopped talking and lowered her eyes. The silence and her mother’s gaze made her uncomfortable.

– Adriana, you’re not pregnant, are you?

The daughter denied it emphatically.

– All the better, the mother said. At least you two can have a little fun. There’s time to have kids. You’re both so young.

Two men were talking a few feet away: one standing, the other seated on a stack of railroad ties. Adriana studied their gestures, muted by twilight. Her mother was also looking in their direction. The one standing up nodded goodbye to the other and came towards them, swinging a lantern. Passing by, he stared at Adriana. Adriana turned to her mother.

– Promise you’ll come back soon, she said.

– My dear girl, it’s not easy, with that man. I can’t leave him on his own.

– That’s what you think, Mum.

– Maybe, the mother replied. After a pause she added: But newlyweds should be left alone. I’m not one of those women always at their daughters’ house for every trifling thing.

– But in our case … Mario likes your coming now and then, the daughter said.

– And now and then, as you can see, I’ll pop over to see you. But not like women who install themselves for months in their daughters’ homes, or in their sons’, like your poor grandmother, God bless her soul. When she passed away I heaved a sigh of relief.

– Mum, the daughter scolded.

– Believe me, Adriana, it had become torture in the end. And since then I’ve told myself: When your daughter gets married, each of you will live in her own house, with her own husband. I learned the hard way, I can assure you, she added after a pause.

All at once the station lights turned on. Casting a last look at the countryside around the station, the two women realized it had turned dark.

– The days are getting shorter, the mother said.

They turned back. Bursts of laughter came from the station master’s room, and then the station master appeared in the doorway, smiling, with a cigar in his mouth, his cap at an angle. Adriana wished him a good evening.

– Good evening, the station master replied, without looking at her.

– Will it be much longer? Adriana asked.

The station master turned towards the room and made an enquiry.

– At least another ten minutes, he replied.

In the middle of the station a small crowd had gathered, composed mostly of labourers. They’d formed several small groups. Their discussion was lively, they were laughing: no one seemed bothered by the delay.

– Adriana, the mother said abruptly. Tell me the truth, you’re not fighting with Mario, are you?

– Of course not, Mum. What gave you that idea?

– I don’t know … I just got the sense … her mother said.

She glanced at her wristwatch, and then at the station clock.

– It’s just that Mario’s so busy, Adriana said. He never gets home before seven-thirty, eight o’clock. And after dinner he goes out, he always has.