"I would send half, or at least a third, of all I have, to the hospital in Lisboa if that were so," he declared. "Niña, you speak as though you knew."
Bonita laughed a little, though there was anxiety in her face.
"Padre, one might doubt the efficacy of such a bribe. Perhaps I do. It is money he wants, as usual?"
"Yes." There was a certain hesitation in the man's answer which did not escape his daughter. "It is, of course, the silver, and I have not much to give him. You have no regard for this Rideau, niña?"
Bonita's face was a study. Anger, loathing, and the faintest trace of fear were stamped upon it.
"Regard! I have only hatred for el perro!"
The emphasis on the last word was significant: while it means simply dog, and is used on occasion to designate a person jestingly, the Castilian can, by change of inflection, make it imply a rabid cur of the lowest degree; and Bonita used the epithet in that manner.
Dom Pedro raised his shoulders, and drew in his breath. He was slightly afraid of his daughter; but, unfortunately for them both, he was more afraid of Rideau, and he did not look at her when he spoke again.
"It is strange the Señor Dane did not return for the book he left, since it shows the path through the forests of Shaillu's country, and he cannot find his way without it."
Bonita smiled upon him pityingly.