"I know many things." She fixed his eyes, continuing in Portuguese. "Perhaps it surprises you Ingles that a mulata can speak at all. I also know how to read, something half the branco rubbish who were in this room tonight probably cannot do."
Katherine knew only a smattering of Portuguese, but she caught the part about some of the branco, the whites, not being able to read. She smiled to think there was probably much truth in that. Certainly almost none of the white indentures could. Further, she suspected that many of the planters had never bothered to learn either.
"I know you were educated in Brazil." Winston was pressing Serina relentlessly. "I was trying to ask you how you know the language of this African?"
She paused, her face a blend of haughtiness and regret. She started to speak, then stopped herself.
"Won't you tell me?"
She turned back, as though speaking to the cauldron. "My mother was Yoruba."
"Is that how you learned?" His voice was skeptical.
"I was taught also by a babalawo, a Yoruba priest, in Brazil."
"What's she saying?" Katherine moved next to him, shielding her eyes from the heat.
"Desculpe, senhora, excuse me." Winston quickly moved forward, continuing in Portuguese as he motioned toward Katherine. "This is . . ."