"And does he take property, too?"
"Why, good God!" cried the drummer, in amazement, "didn't you know that?"
After a long pause the Spanish girl said almost inaudibly, "No, I didn't know ... that."
"Huh!" ejaculated Strawbridge, growing very much embarrassed. "I'm sorry I mentioned it, I ... I...." He looked at her, moistening his lips, and broke out with a desperate note of remorse, "Well, I swear I hate mentioning that!"
The señora shrugged wearily.
"Oh, ... that doesn't matter."
She kept accenting her "thats" as if other things preyed more deeply on her thoughts.
At this moment a big French motor-car murmured past the window of the music-room. It happened that both the drummer and the señora saw it, were looking straight at it. The car contained General Fombombo, and in the seat beside him Strawbridge recognized the peon girl Madruja, the little bride whom the dictator continued to detain in the palace until he could come to some judicial decision as to what to do with her.