“Here?” murmured Pepe Rey.
From the movements of Rosarito’s right hand he comprehended that she was blessing herself.
“Rosario, dear cousin, thanks for allowing me to see you!” he exclaimed, embracing her ardently.
He felt the girl’s cold fingers on his lips, imposing silence. He kissed them rapturously.
“You are frozen. Rosario, why do you tremble so?”
Her teeth were chattering, and her whole frame trembled convulsively. Rey felt the burning heat of his cousin’s face against his own, and he cried in alarm:
“Your forehead is burning! You are feverish.”
“Very.”
“Are you really ill?”
“Yes.”