He looked daggers at her, then burst into a laugh.
“Oh, Señora mia! What ails us men, when we are always wanting to be good?”
“Are you repenting of it?” she laughed.
“Yes!” he said. “I am a prince of fools! Why have I started this Quetzalcoatl business? Why? Pray tell me why?”
“I suppose you wanted to.”
He pondered for a time, pushing up his moustache.
“Perhaps it is better to be a monkey than a fool. I object to being called a monkey, nevertheless. Carlota is a monkey, no more; and my two boys are prize young monkeys in sailor suits. And I am a fool. Yet what is the difference between a fool and a monkey?”
“Quien sabe?” said Kate.
“One wants to be good, and the other is sure he is good. So I make a fool of myself. They are sure they are always good, so that makes monkeys of them. Oh, if only the world would blow up like a bomb!”
“It won’t!” said Kate.