Chapter 27

Marita

Gianfranco and I went through La Playa, the Afro-Cuban neighborhood where cha-cha-cha was born in the various nocturnal haunts. At night, when it sparkled with so many small lights, it looked like a constellation carried on the earth; during the day, an immense bouquet of flowers because in front of the wooden houses there were very large cars, preferably Cadillacs, in bright colors, especially pink and purple.

Past the La Playa barrio, beyond the limit of the old Spanish city, almost at the end of the Fifth Avenue began the exclusive Bitmore neighborhood and there was a house called Horas Felices, with a garden that on the sea side turned into a small Bay.

In front of the house in the shade of the palm trees there were many people who spoke with animation in the most varied languages ​​and others, sitting around tables, playing cards.

Gianfranco looked around, then led me to one of the tables. "Ah, are you Adriana then? Welcome to Horas Felices. Ahora quitate de aqui*! See you later" said the Marquise Guglielmi di Vulci, married to the Marquis of Sanfelice consul of Italy in Havana, shuffling the cards.

"Don't pay attention to her way of speaking" Gianfranco told me in a low voice. "You'll see how nice she is." 

And in fact, Marita was very nice. Slender and harmonious,...

* now get out of here! in Spanish.