"Indeed I shouldn't! And neither would the unfortunates who had charge of me."
We pass a Catholic graveyard with high adobe wall and are at the Hospital Municipal, our objective point. A dark young man in ill-fitting clothes receives us and shows us about this primitive refuge. The floors are tiled and all the appointments are rude, but very clean.
Baron de Bach distributes his Mexican dollars so generously the dark young man is quite overcome. He asks some question with solemn black eyes fixed on me. The Peruvian laughs with slight confusion and I catch "Si" in his reply. The dark young man puts another query.
"What's it all about?" says Mrs. Steele; "you promised to interpret."
"Oh, yes, if I must. Dthis zhentleman ask if dthis young lady ees my wife and if she like roses."
"Oh, let us see the roses," says Mrs. Steele, calmly ignoring the wretch's prevarication, for I know to the first question he said "Yes." With my nose in the air I follow the rest into the rose garden of the hospital, where all is so lovely I quite forget I am offended.
Oh, the rose trees and the wilderness of bloom!
The dark young man gathers for Mrs. Steele and the Baron de Bach for me.
