Juana. “Isn’t it true! Do you know? Have you been to the country where they are, these people?”
“Yes,” said Kate. “I have been to all the countries, and there are no such people.”
“Verdad! Verdad!” breathed Juana, awestruck. “You have been to all the countries, and there are no such people!—But in your country, they are all gringos? Nothing but gringos?”
She meant, no real people and salt of the earth like her own Mexican self.
“They are all people like me,” said Kate coldly.
“Like you, Niña? And they all talk like you?”
“Yes! Like me.”
“And there are many?”
“Many! Many!”
“Look now!” breathed Juana, almost awestruck to think that there could be whole worlds of these freak, mockable people.
And Concha, that young, belching savage, would stare through her window-grating at the strange menagerie of the