Mrs. Steele looks away from her window as we take our former seats.
"How deliciously cool it's grown," she says. "What makes you so white, Blanche?"
"Vas it not for dthat she ees call Blanca?"
"What is it, child? Are you faint?"
"Yes, a little," I answer, wondering whether I had better tell how that Peruvian monster has been behaving.
"That's strange! It's quite unlike you to be faint. Baron, will you mix a little of this brandy with some water? That will make her feel better."
Again he takes out his traveller's cup of silver. Calling the negro conductor, he tells him to bring some "agua."
"He's afraid to leave us," I think indignantly; "he doesn't want me to tell Mrs. Steele."
"Did you notice that great cleft in the mountain we went over?" asks the latter, fanning me gently.
"Yes, dthat ees call 'baranca.' Señorita seem not to like it."