Luisa. Yes, he is home. Would you like to see him?
Manolo. If I could have a few words—on a matter of business.
Luisa. I'll call him. Wait… Here comes Adelaida.
Adelaida enters.
Adelaida. Oh, my dear, my darling Luisa! Where is your mother?
Luisa. Why, what is the matter? Something has happened to you!
Adelaida. Oh, what a misfortune! Such a terrible calamity!
Manolo. You don't mean it? Really, Adelaida?
Adelaida. I beg your pardon; I didn't see you were there.
Manolo. I beg yours; I just ran in undressed. I didn't get to bed at all last night; I hadn't time even to wash.
Adelaida. I don't believe I should have noticed it. This morning I am scarcely myself…
Luisa. But what is it?
Adelaida. Oh, you could never guess! It is too horrible! Galán is at death's door. He may even be dead while we sit here and talk.
Luisa. You don't say so?
Manolo. What was that again?
Luisa. But I can't believe it. This is so sudden!
Adelaida. For the past four or five days, as you know, he has not left the house; he suffered from a severe cold, that was all. Cristóbal stopped in to see him every day, and even yesterday we were not alarmed; but last night he sent word that he was worse, he had fever. Cristóbal hurried at once to his side, and at eleven I received a message that he was going to sit up and watch him all night; his condition was serious. This morning I became anxious when Cristóbal did not appear, so I sent the maid to inquire, and
