"Where to?" asked Amy dryly.
"Back to Señora de Socotra."
"And Señor Francisco? No, thank you."
"Let me take you to a hotel, then."
"In this? I have no other clothes."
Señor Henry's feelings were too much for him. He relapsed into Spanish. Amy clapped her hands over her ears.
"Speak English!" she commanded.
The dark-skinned youth, guessing that the English was for Greg's benefit, shot a glance of purest hatred across the bed. To Amy he said: "Tell the Señora the truth, and she will leave Francisco."
"And die of a broken heart," said Amy. "I'd rather kill Francisco."
"But you cannot remain here among these people."