Cross the withy there,
Jesus in the air . . .
Sir, forgive my asking, but have you a little bit of tobacco or a god-dam cigarette?”
“No,” Sard said, “I have not.”
“What do you want here, sir?” the man asked. “What do you come to this house for? This is General Martinez’ house.”
“So I understand,” Sard said. “I want to know the name of the lady who came to this house to-day.”
“Oh, Lord, are you American?”
“No.”
“I thought you were an American, because you talked such funny language.”
“What is the name of the lady?”