Pepita (laughing and blushing): I’d like to see the figs before I answer.
Dennys (with a loud laugh): Well answered, Doña Doubting Thomas (turning to Sister Pilar). You Spaniards pass at once for the most doubting and the most credulous of the nations. You believe every word of your priest and doubt every word of your neighbour. Why, I remember ... may I sit down, daughter?... I remember once at Avila....
Pepita: You have not yet shown us these two figs.
Dennys: No, nor I have! As your poor folk say, “One ‘take’ is worth a score of ‘I’ll gives.’” Give me your balls. (He makes cabalistic signs over them.) There now, they are figs, and brebas at that! What, you don’t believe me? (noticing their disappointed faces.) It must be at the next meeting, little lord and lady. Half a dozen for each of you, my word as a tr—— as a friar. But you must not let me keep you from your business ... I think you have business with a ball, over at that wall yonder?
Pepita and Juanito: Come and play with us.
Dennys: No, no, it would not suit my frock. Another day, maybe. Listen, get you to your game of ball, but watch for the Moor who may come swooping down on you like this (He catches them up in his arms, they laughing and struggling): fling them over his shoulders as it were a bag of chestnuts. Then hie for the ovens of Granada! (He trots them back to the wall, one perched on either shoulder.) Now, my beauties, you busy yourselves with your ball and expect the Moor. But mind! He’ll not come if you call out to him. (He returns to the bewildered Sister Pilar.) I think that will keep them quiet and occupied a little space. Well, I suppose your sisters are having their siesta and dreaming of ... I’ll sit here a little space if I may, your court is cool and pleasant.
(Pause.)
Dennys (looking at her quizzically): So all day long you sit and dream and sing the Hours.
Sister Pilar (coldly): And is that not the life of a religious in your country?