Hall took out his wallet. "Here, Rafael, you'll need money for taxis."
"Are you crazy, Mateo? This is a hundred-peso note."
"You'll also need a new suit. They won't let you into the Spanish Embassy in those clothes."
"I'll buy my own clothes!"
"Rafael," Santiago said, gently, "Hall is our compañero."
The boy began to blush. "I am sorry," he stammered, "but it is not my way to accept such offers."
"I don't offer it to a man," Hall said. "I gave it to an officer of the People's Army. It is money intended to aid that army in its fight."
"Hurry up, Rafael," Santiago said. "We will argue after we get out of the Embassy—if we get out."
"I've got to see Lobo," Hall said when Rafael left. "I've got to tell him to ask the American Intelligence Service to check on Ansaldo's movements in Lisbon. I don't think he is going to operate on any Portuguese jurist or anyone else in Lisbon."
"You'll make a fool of yourself, Mateo. You're not dealing with stupid Spanish fascists like Franco and Gil Robles. You're dealing with the German Nazis who run the Falange. I know them. They're too smart not to have a patient waiting in bed for Ansaldo when he gets to Lisbon. Why don't you see Lobo after our conference with Rivas? In the meanwhile, I'd better get statements from de Sola and Carlos Echagaray on Ansaldo and Marina."