"What do you really and truly think of Isabel?" asked young Crowberry, who had headed Antonio off among the trees. This time he meant to have his answer.
The monk looked at him sadly, and passed a hand over his burning eyes.
"The Senhorita and I talked very little," he replied. "So far as I know, I like her."
"Is she pretty?"
"Yes."
"And clever?"
"I think so."
"She's as clever as a don. That's the trouble. All head, no heart. And as proud as Lucifer."
Young Crowberry saw that Antonio could hardly endure his chatter.
"Something's wrong," he said, with genuine concern in his boyish voice. "What are you down in the doleful dumps for?"