the doorway, glancing round the room, and at the two women.
“Look!” said Teresa, rather confused. “The Señora wants to give me this India muslin.”—She turned to him shyly, with the fabric held to her throat.
“You look very well in it,” he said, his eyes resting on her.
“The Señora ought not to give it to me.”
“The Señora would not give it you unless she wished to.”
“Then!” said Teresa to Kate. “Many thanks! But many thanks!”
“It is nothing,” said Kate.
“But Ramón says it suits me.”
“Yes, doesn’t it suit her!” cried Kate to him. “It was made in India for someone as dark as she is. It does suit her.”
“Very pretty!” said Ramón.
He had glanced round the room, at the different attractive things from different parts of the world, and at the cigarette ends in the agate