She seemed uncertain whether she had used the right word.
"Underhanded—yes," encouraged Cora, with a smile.
"He had enemies," proceeded the girl. "Oh, zose politic—zose intrigues—I know nozzing of zem—but zey are terrible!" She spread her hands before her face with a natural, tragic gesture.
"But I must not tire you, Senoritas," she resumed. "My father, he was arrested on ze political charges. We lived on Sea Horse Island-L, it is a Spanish possession of ze West Indies. We were happy zere (it is one grand, beautiful place). Ze waters of ze bay are so blue—so blue—ah!"
She seemed lost in a flood of happy memories, and then, as swiftly, she apologized for giving away to her feelings.
"I should not tire you," she said.
"Oh, but we just love to hear about it," said Belle, eagerly. "We are going there—to waters blue—"
"That I might go wiz you—but no, it is impossible!" the lace seller sighed.
"Tell us your story—perhaps we can help you," suggested Cora.
"I will make for you as little weariness as I can, Senoritas; and, believe me, I am truly grateful to you," she said. "I do not even dare dream zat I could go to my father," sighed Inez, "but perhaps you will be of so great kindness as to take him a message from me. I cannot mail it—he is not allowed to receive letters zat are not read, and we have no secret cipher we might use."