Fray Juan shook his head. "No lo sé. She came to me in the church, and spoke, and passed like the angel of death. May she go with God!"
"I hope so," said Manvers. Then he looked into the placid face of the brown friar. "But I must find her somehow." Upon that addition he shut his mouth with a snap. The survey which he had to endure from Fray Juan's patient eyes was the best answer to it.
"Oh, but I must, you know," he said.
"Better not, my son," said Fray Juan. "It seems to me that you have seen enough. Your motives will be misunderstood."
Manvers laughed. "They are rather obscure to me—but I can't let her pay for my fault."
"You may make her pay double," said Fray Juan.
"No," said Manvers decisively, "I won't. It's my turn to pay now."
The Friar shrugged. "It is usually the woman who pays. But lo que ha de ser...!"
The everlasting phrase! "That proverb serves you well in Spain, Fray Juan," said Manvers, who was in a staring fit.
"It is all we have that matters. Other nations have to learn it; here we know it."