They were still. There came the faint pip!-pip! from the little electric plant just up the road, which Jesús tended. Then a cock from beyond the bananas crowed powerfully and hoarsely.
“But how absurd!” said Kate. “Cocks don’t crow at this hour.”
“Only in Mexico,” laughed Cipriano.
“Yes! Only here!”
“He thinks your moon is the sun, no?” he said, teasing her.
The cock crowed powerfully, again and again.
“This is very nice, your house, your patio,” said Cipriano.
But Kate was silent.
“Or don’t you like it?” he said.
“You see,” she answered, “I have nothing to do! The servants won’t let me do anything. If I sweep my room, they stand and say Que Niña! Que Niña! As if I was standing on my head for their benefit. I sew, though I’ve no interest in sewing.—What is it, for a life?”