The faint light from the lantern hanging in the comidor showed to Felisa the look in Beltran's eyes as he bent toward her.
"I do not like you, my little Susana," he said, bending close to her shoulder, "because you flout me, and flirt with me, and break my poor heart all to little bits. Still, we will sing together once more."
"Once more? Why do you say once more, cousin?" asked Felisa, apprehensively. A shadow had settled again over her face.
"Did I? I do not know. Come now, begin." His voice was lowered almost to a whisper, as he sang the first lines of the seductive, monotonous little Spanish air. The accompaniment thrilled softly from the well-tuned strings.
"Donde vas con mantón manila,
Donde vas con vestido chiné,"
he sang.
Her high soprano answered him:
"A lucirme y á ver la verbena,