Kate felt rather as if she were coming to, from a swoon, as Ramón spoke to her and looked at her. His eyes, his voice seemed kind. Kind? The word suddenly was strange to her, she had to try to get its meaning.
There was no kindness in Cipriano. The god-demon Pan preceded kindness. She wondered if she wanted kindness. She did not know. Everything felt numb.
“I was wondering whether to go to England,” she said.
“Again?” said Ramón, with a slight smile. “Away from the bullets and the knives, is that it?”
“Yes!—to get away.” And she sighed deeply.
“No!” said Ramón. “Don’t go away. You will find nothing in England.”
“But can I go on here?”
“Can you help it?”
“I wish I knew what to do.”
“How can one know? Something happens inside you, and all your decisions are smoke.—Let happen what will happen.”