At this moment Doña Serafina, who had swooped down on her charges, appeared to say good night. Both Dolores and Eulalia were unwilling to retire so early, but their aunt was adamant, and they knew that nothing could change her resolution, particularly as she had grown weary of fraternising with Peter.
"Bueno noche tenga, Vm," said Doña Serafina, politely, and her salutation was echoed by the young ladies in her wake.
"Con dios va usted, Señora," replied Tim, kissing the old lady's extended hand, after which they withdrew. Dolores managed to flash a tender glance at Jack as they descended into the patio, and Philip, leaning over the balustrade of the azotea caught a significant wave of Eulalia's fan, which meant a good deal. Cassim knew all those minute but eloquent signs of love.
Shortly afterwards they also took their leave after refusing Maraquando's hospitable offer of pulque.
"No, sir," said Tim, as they went off to their own mansion; "not while there is good whisky to be had."
"But pulque isn't bad," protested Jack, more for the sake of saying something than because he thought so.
"Well, drink it yourself, Jack, and leave us the crather!"
"Talking about 'crathers,'" said Philip, mimicking Tim's brogue, "what do you think of Doña Serafina, Peter?"
"A nice old lady, but not beautiful. I would rather be with Doña Eulalia."
"Would you, indeed?" retorted Cassim, indignantly. "As if she would understand those idiotic signs you make."