"You have had me brought here for some purpose?" said Kendric.
She sat forward, straight in her chair, her two hands gripping the carved arms.
"Did I not tell you when first we spoke together that I had use for you? Since then have I not sent myself into your thoughts many times? Did I not come to you, that you should remember, on the boat that brought you here?"
"I am no man for mysteries," he said. "Tell me: Did you somehow get aboard the New Moon at San Diego? Or did my fancy play me a trick?"
"You ask me questions!" she mocked. "When you would believe what pleased you, no matter what word I spoke! If I said that across the miles, over mountain and desert and water I sent my spirit to you—would you believe?"
"No. Not when there are other readier explanations."
She raised a quick hand and pointed to the parrot.
"Chatter! Questions put when you do not expect an answer. A hundred years of words and only a red and yellow bundle of feathers at the end. It is deeds we want, Señor Americano, you and I!"
He returned her look steadily.
"Then tell me what you want of me," he said. "And in one word I'll give you yes or no."