“Ay! So I theenk once. But no was intend, I theenk, to live ’lone alway.”
“Then why have you never married again, dear señora!” Thorpe found the conversation very tiresome.
“Ay! The men here—all are alike the one to the other. Never I marry another Californian.”
“Ah!”
“No!”
His restless eyes suddenly encountered hers. He felt the blood climb to his hair, his breath come short. His hands desperately sought his pockets.
“I am sure, if you went to San Francisco, you would be overwhelmed with offers—from Americans. This room is frightfully warm, don’t you think so, señora? Shall I open the door? Ah, what a nuisance! here comes Don Adan Menendez to talk to you, and two other admirers are in his wake. I must release you for the moment. Hasta luego, dear señora!”
He made his way rapidly down the room, and out of the house.
“Great heaven!” he thought. “It is well the week is over. Good God, what a travesty!” and he laughed aloud.
He passed through the screaming crowd, which also had its cascarones, and walked rapidly and aimlessly up the valley until the white placid walls of the Mission were so close that he could count its arches. He sat down on a rock, and pressed his hands against his head.