Evelyn started, for this was worse.
"Your house!" she exclaimed. "Then who is Señora Garcia?"
Gomez smirked in an ugly manner.
"A woman of the town who comes at my bidding."
The jealous hatred of the coarse but handsome woman was now explained and Evelyn grew hot with humiliation as she saw that the señora Garcia regarded her as a favored rival. It was unendurable; but in spite of her anger she was getting calm. Besides, there was some hope in the thought that Gomez could not be moved by passion. He was a sensual brute, and her beauty had perhaps caught his roving eye, but it was some material advantage he sought.
"It was a clever plot; one that only a mind like yours could conceive," she said with quiet scorn.
"The important thing is that it succeeded. But may I ask why you object to me? I am a man of influence—in reality, the second in power. The country is disturbed and discontented; before long I may be first."
"Your hopes would probably come to a sudden end, if your master guessed them," Evelyn answered with a mocking smile.
She saw that she had touched him, for he cast a quick glance at the door, as if to make sure that nobody had heard his boast. As he did so, Evelyn thought she heard a faint movement outside, but she knew she might be mistaken, and Gomez did not seem to notice anything. To distract his attention, she flung another jibe at him.
"Señor," she said, "though you think I am in your power, I will never marry you. It is an insult to suggest it. Even if you were not repulsive in person and character, you are not a white man."