He did not believe that Padura would notice it.
He could see her, busy in the kitchen, which is a house separate from a Cingalese dwelling.

Her plump, pleasant face bent over the fire, and then again she turned away, her light jacket and striped skirt vanishing toward another corner of the kitchen.

Comale half laughed as he thought how scared she would be if a little serpent should find the opening he had made.

Then he ran away.
But now, since beginning his day's work, his quarrel and the possible consequences of his misdeed had begun to weigh heavily on Comale's conscience, and had lent an accusing tongue to nature.

So true is it that a guilty conscience finds censure where a heart that is at peace with God and man would find no reproving reminder.
Comale could not go home till nightfall, and all day his worry increased.