Eva presently came out of her father’s room, and walked outdoors with him as he waited. It was hot and cloudy; spicy, musky scents seemed to hover in the air. Away in the city a band was playing faintly.
“Your father has placed a great confidence in me,” he said. “I’m going to try to deserve it.”
“He took my word for you. But he’s a good judge of men besides. I think all’s going to be well now. If he says there are emeralds, there will be emeralds. He’s never wrong.”
“And you’ll be rich and I’ll be rich and we’ll all be rich together. What difference will it make, I wonder?”
“Much, to my father. He’ll have proper funds for his work, for the first time.”
“And much to me. Never did I need it more.”
“And nothing at all to me,” she returned. “There’s your car.”
“Good-by, till to-morrow.”
The car roared up; he took her hand. He might have kissed it; in that Spanish country it would have been courtesy. The car flashed a blinding glare over them as it wheeled.
“Come early and lunch with us,” she cried.