"He looked at me as keen as all you black-eyed folks can look. 'Don't you know where Josefa is?' he asked.
"'Certainly I don't, or I wouldn't have asked where he was.'
"'Well—he's not here any longer.'
"'Did you discharge him?' I asked.
"The merchant looked at me, and I be damned if there wasn't tears in his eyes. 'Señor Strawbridge,' he said, 'Josefa is gone. He is simply gone. He was a good boy; that is all I can say to you about it.'"
Here Strawbridge's narration was interrupted by a little sound from the girl in the darkness. He stopped short.
"Why, what's the matter, señora?" he asked in surprise.
"Oh, nothing ... nothing...." Her voice quavered. "Poor Josefa!"
The salesman tried to peer into her face.