these gentlemen from the hills, from the village of Apaxtle, many thanks.*
There sit the Indians staring as if heaven had opened and the Virgin of Guadalupe was standing tiptoe on their chins. And what do you expect? The telephone is a dummy. It isn’t connected with anywhere. Isn’t that rich? But it’s Mexico.”
The moment’s fatal pause followed this funny story.
“Oh but!” said Kate, “it’s wicked! It is wicked. I’m sure the Indians would be all right, if they were left alone.”
“Well,” said Mrs Norris. “Mexico isn’t like any other place in the world.”
But she spoke with fear and despair in her voice.
“They seem to want to betray everything,” said Kate. “They seem to love criminals and ghastly things. They seem to want the ugly things. They seem