“A––a––where did you say this––this Josè was, little girl?” he asked gently.
“In Simití,” she replied. “He is working out his problem.”
His eyes shifted quickly from hers. But he could not hold them away.
“His problem?”
“Yes. You know, he never was a priest at heart. But, though he saw the truth, in part, he was not able to prove it enough to set himself free; and so when I came away he stayed behind to work out his problem. And he will work it all out,” she mused abstractedly, looking off into the distance; “he will work it all out and come––to me. I am––I am working with him, now––and for him. And––” her voice dropped to a whisper, “I love him, oh, so much!”
Ames’s steely eyes narrowed. His mouth opened; then shut again with a sharp snap. That beautiful creature now belonged to him, and to none other! Were there other claimants, he would crush them without mercy! As for this apostate priest, Josè––humph! if he still lived he should rot the rest of his days in the reeking dungeons of San Fernando!
Carmen looked up. “When he comes to me,” she said softly, “we are going to give ourselves to the whole world.”
Ames appeared not to hear.
“And––perhaps––perhaps, by that time, you will be––be––”
“Well?” snapped the man, irritated by the return of her thought to himself.