Robledo had good reason to know that Torre Bianca had gone to see him, but he felt it imperative to speak to the marquesa. However, he hesitated about stepping into the house. He had no desire to find himself alone with Elena. Besides, his interview with her must be of the briefest. Torre Bianca might return at any moment, and it would be awkward to explain his presence there when a few minutes earlier he had been talking with the marqués at his house.
“I want to see your mistress for just a second.... It would be better if she just leaned out of her bedroom window....”
The half-breed closed the door, and Robledo went along the outside balcony past several windows. One of them opened a few moments later and Elena, her hair hanging loose, and a dressing gown thrown negligently about her shoulders, but leaving much of her arms and breast exposed, leaned out.
She had gotten up quickly, and appeared startled. Even before Robledo spoke she asked anxiously,
“Has something happened to Watson? Why are you here at this hour?”
Robledo smiled ironically; then he answered,
“Watson is quite well. My being here at such an hour as this is on some other man’s account.”
He looked at her with severity and added slowly,
“Within a few hours’ time two men are going to kill one another. This is a horrible absurdity which makes it quite impossible for me to sleep tonight. So I have come to say to you, Elena, stop this frightful thing, for heaven’s sake!”
As soon as she felt certain that Robledo’s business in no wise concerned Watson, Elena replied, with little concealed ill-humor,