Kate also wanted to see Ramón: she always did.
“Shall I?” she said.
“Yes! Come with me in the morning in the automobile. Yes?”
“I would like to see Don Ramón again,” she said.
“You are not afraid of him, eh? Not the bit of horror, eh?” he said, smiling peculiarly.
“No. But Don Ramón isn’t really Mexican,” she said.
“Not really Mexican?”
“No!—He feels European.”
“Really! To me he is—Mexico.”
She paused and gathered herself together.