Explore "The Nine Guardians" by Rosario Castellanos on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
They dumped me on the sofa in Amalia's drawing-room and went away, she and Vicenta. I stayed there, with my hair tangled, sweating from the struggle, covered with dirt because of the way they'd dragged me. It hadn't been any use. Amalia and Vicenta had left me there in front of a mirror that was not to be gainsaid and an old woman who paid no heed to the commotion of my entry. There she was as usual, sunk in contemplation of the little square of street the window allowed her to see.
And Mario was there alone in his bedroom, quivering with pain, and the priest coming nearer and nearer.