Then Pacheco, who had climbed down from the box, removed his cloak, seized it as if he were about to tease a bull with it, and with a flourish spread it out upon the damp earth from the step of the carriage to the door of the house.
“There! Now you can get out.”
The Countess, smiling and holding up her silk dress, walked across the cloak in her white shoes, and quickly entered the vestibule.
“Long live my Queen!” cried Pacheco, carried away by his enthusiasm. “And hurrah for all valiant women!”
It began to pour.
“What will poor Doña Sinda do?” said Quentin.
“Who is Doña Sinda?” asked Pacheco.
“The woman we left out on the roof. She must be soup by this time.”