I saw a pink-and-white plaster angel above his bed, and some photos of sporting champions and naked girls pinned to the opposite wall.
The bed hadn’t been made and the room was dirty.
He began by lighting a paraffin lamp; then fumbled in his pocket and produced a rather grimy bandage, which he wrapped round his right hand.
I asked him what the trouble was.
He told me he’d been having a roughhouse with a fellow who’d annoyed him.
“I’m not one who looks for trouble,” he explained, “only I’m a bit short-tempered.
That fellow said to me, challenging-like,
‘Come down off that streetcar, if you’re a man.’
I says,
‘You keep quiet, I ain’t done nothing to you.’
Then he said I hadn’t any guts.
Well, that settled it. I got down off the streetcar and I said to him,
‘You better keep your mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you.’
‘I’d like to see you try!’ says he.
Then I gave him one across the face, and laid him out good and proper.
After a bit I started to help him get up, but all he did was to kick at me from where he lay.
So I gave him one with my knee and a couple more swipes.
He was bleeding like a pig when I’d done with him.
I asked him if he’d had enough, and he said,
‘Yes.’ ”
Sintes was busy fixing his bandage while he talked, and I was sitting on the bed.
“So you see,” he said, “it wasn’t my fault; he was asking for it, wasn’t he?”
I nodded, and he added:
“As a matter of fact, I rather want to ask your advice about something; it’s connected with this business. You’ve knocked about the world a bit, and I daresay you can help me. And then I’ll be your pal for life; I never forget anyone who does me a good turn.”
When I made no comment, he asked me if I’d like us to be pals.
I replied that I had no objection, and that appeared to satisfy him.
He got out the black pudding, cooked it in a frying pan, then laid the table, putting out two bottles of wine.
While he was doing this he didn’t speak.
We started dinner, and then he began telling me the whole story, hesitating a bit at first.
“There’s a girl behind it—as usual. We slept together pretty regular. I was keeping her, as a matter of fact, and she cost me a tidy sum. That fellow I knocked down is her brother.”
Noticing that I said nothing, he added that he knew what the neighbors said about him, but it was a filthy lie. He had his principles like everybody else, and a job in a warehouse.
“Well,” he said, “to go on with my story ... I found out one day that she was letting me down.”
He gave her enough money to keep her going, without extravagance, though; he paid the rent of her room and twenty francs a day for food.
“Three hundred francs for rent, and six hundred for her grub, with a little present thrown in now and then, a pair of stockings or whatnot. Say, a thousand francs a month.
But that wasn’t enough for my fine lady; she was always grumbling that she couldn’t make both ends meet with what I gave her.
So one day I says to her,
‘Look here, why not get a job for a few hours a day?
That’d make things easier for me, too.
I bought you a new dress this month, I pay your rent and give you twenty francs a day. But you go and waste your money at the cafe with a pack of girls.
You give them coffee and sugar.
And, of course, the money comes out of my pocket. I treat you on the square, and that’s how you pay me back.’
But she wouldn’t hear of working, though she kept on saying she couldn’t make do with what I gave her. And then one day I found out she was doing me dirt.”
He went on to explain that he’d found a lottery ticket in her bag, and, when he asked where the money’d come from to buy it, she wouldn’t tell him.
Then, another time, he’d found a pawn ticket for two bracelets that he’d never set eyes on.
“So I knew there was dirty work going on, and I told her I’d have nothing more to do with her.
But, first, I gave her a good hiding, and I told her some home truths.
I said that there was only one thing interested her and that was getting into bed with men whenever she’d the chance.
And I warned her straight,
‘You’ll be sorry one day, my girl, and wish you’d got me back.
All the girls in the street, they’re jealous of your luck in having me to keep you.’ ”