"And I need not be afraid of Señor Mon, with his gentle smile?" asked Juanita, turning on Marcos with a sudden shrewd gravity.
"No."
She gave a great sigh of relief and shook back her mantilla. Then she laughed and turned to Sarrion.
"He always says 'yes' or 'no'--and only that," she remarked confidentially to him. "But somehow it seems enough."
They had reached the corner of the street now, and the carriage was approaching them. It was one of the heavy carriages used only on state occasions which had stood idle for many years in the stables of the Palacio Sarrion. The horses were from Torre Garda and the men in their quiet liveries greeted her with country frankness.
"It is one of the grand carriages," said Juanita.
"Yes."
"Why?" she asked.
"To take you home," replied Sarrion.
Juanita got into the carriage and sat down in silence. The man who closed the door touched his hat, not to the Sarrions but to her; and she returned the salutation with a friendly smile.