He stood on one foot, then on the other, and then marched forward up the gravel walk, towards the kitchen quarters, as if he had not seen either Kate or General Viedma. In a few moments he marched back, as if he could not see either Kate or the General, through the open door.
Cipriano looked at the passing stout figure of Don Antonio in a cloth cap as if it were the wind blowing.
“It is my landlord!” said Kate. “I expect he wants to know if I am taking on the house for another three months.”
“Ramón wanted me to come and see you—to see how you are, no?—and to ask you to come to Jamiltepec. Will you come with me now? The car is here.”
“Must I?” said Kate, uneasily.
“No. Not unless you wish. Ramón said, not unless you wished. He said, perhaps it would be painful to you, no?—to go to Jamiltepec again—so soon after—”
How curious Cipriano was! He stated things as if they were mere bare facts with no emotional content at all. As for its being painful to Kate to go to Jamiltepec, that meant nothing to him.
“Lucky thing you were there that day, no?” he said. “They might have killed him. Very likely they would! Very likely! Awful, no?”
“They might have killed me too,” she said.
“Yes! Yes! They might!” he acquiesced.