chauffeur.
“Is Doña Carlota here?” asked Kate.
“No Señora. The patrona is not here.”
“Don Ramón?”
“Si Señora! Està.”
Even as she hesitated, rather nervous, Ramón came out of the inner doorway of the courtyard, in his dazzling white clothes.
“I came to see you,” said Kate. “I don’t know if you’d rather I hadn’t. But I can go back in the motor-car.”
“No,” he said. “I am glad. I was feeling deserted, I don’t know why. Let us go upstairs.”
“Patrón!” said the chauffeur, in a low voice. “Must I stay?”
Ramón said a few words to him. The chauffeur was uneasy, and didn’t want to stay. He said he had to be back in Sayula at such and such a time. Excuses, anyhow. But it was evident he wanted to get away.
“Then