“You can all wake up,” the General informed them.
“Mio,” Pedro called to his wife, who opened her eyes, stared about her in amazement, then glanced at her husband. Her eyes filled with tears and she buried her face against his breast and began sobbing bitterly.
“Aw, come now, lady, that ain’t getting you no place,” the General protested.
“Better keep off the water-works,” the Admiral advised sharply.
“Be brave, querida mia,” Pedro whispered trying to comfort her, but she continued to cry as if she were going to have a spell of hysterics.
“Can that,” the General snapped. Pedro urged softly and in a few minutes the sobbing ceased. She dabbed her face with her handkerchief, and straightened her clothes.
“Mother of God,” she prayed tearfully.
“Listen, Bo, make her quit that or I’ll—give her something to pray over,” the General snarled and his fingers clutched his gun aggressively. If he thought to frighten Mrs. Gonzalas into silence he used the wrong tactics, for she shrieked out wildly, crying harder than ever.
“You would—” Arto flared.
“I say,” Jim interposed. “What do you want to scare her out of her wits for? No wonder she cried; waking up and seeing you.”