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and freshness, he went so far as to say, “If I ever find out you’ve been deceiving me, I’ll kill you, believe me, I’ll kill you. I would prefer to end my life tragically than be a decrepit old cuckold. You had best commend your soul to God before you even think of being unfaithful. Because I know. There are no secrets for me. I possess an infinite knowledge of these things, as well as having a whole lifetime of experience and an infallible nose . . . you can’t fool me.”

7
    TRISTANA felt vaguely frightened, but not terrified, nor did she quite believe her master’s fierce threats, sensing that his boasts about his infallible nose and his powers of divination were a trap he laid to control her. Her easy conscience armed her with courage against the tyrant, and she didn’t even bother to obey his many prohibitions. He had ordered her not to go out with Saturna, but she escaped almost every afternoon, not to Madrid proper but to Cuatro Caminos, Partidor, Canalillo, or toward the hills above the Hippodrome; a walk in the country, usually with a picnic, moments of healthy relaxation. These were the only times in her life when the poor slave could set aside her sadness and enjoy herself with childlike abandon, allowing herself to run and jump and play tag with the innkeeper’s daughter, who used to go with her, or some other friend from the neighborhood. On Sundays, the walk was of an entirely different nature. Saturna had placed her son in the local hospice and, along with all the other mothers who found themselves in the same situation, she would go and see him when the boys were allowed out.
    Usually, when the throng of boys reached an agreed spot among the new streets of Chamberí, the order was given to break ranks and then they were free to play. Waiting for them were their mothers, grandmothers, and aunts (those who had them), who came bearing small bundles containing oranges, peanuts, hazelnuts, cakes, or crusts of bread. Some of the boys would run about playing games with sticks; others joined the groups of women. Some begged coins off passersby, and almost all of them milled around the vendors of barley sugar, hazelnuts, and pine nuts. Tristana always enjoyed watching them, and when the weather was fine, she never missed a chance to share with her servant the pleasant task of spoiling the young boarder, who was called Saturno after his mother, and was stocky and knock-kneed, although his chubby red cheeks were a testament to the healthy diet at the hospice. The rough cloth uniform he wore didn’t really allow for elegance of movement, and his braided cap was too small for his large head, which was covered with a stiff brush of hair. His mother and Tristana found him most amusing, but it has to be said that he hadn’t an ounce of wit in him; he was, rather, docile, good-hearted, and hardworking, with a taste for mock bullfights. Tristana would always bring him a gift of an orange and a penny so that he could buy himself some sweets; and however much his mother urged him to save, suggesting that he put away the money he was given, she could never check his extravagance, and any coin acquired was a coin immediately put back into circulation. Thus commerce prospered thanks to the paper windmills he bought, as well as the banderillas for his bullfights and bags of toasted chickpeas and acorns.
    After a long period of importunate and annoying rain, October brought a tranquil two weeks, with warm sun, clear skies, and windless days; and although Madrid still woke up to mornings shrouded in mist, and the night chill considerably cooled the earth, the afternoons, from two until five, were a delight. On Sundays, not a living soul stayed at home, and every street in Chamberí, the Altos de Maudes, the avenues leading up to the Hippodrome, and the hills of Amaniel were all thronged with people. There was a constant hurrying stream of picnickers heading for Tetuán. On one such glorious October Sunday, Saturna and