go away. But finding them both in the thick of their Quetzalcoatl mood, with their manly breasts uncovered, she was not very eager to begin. They made her feel like an intruder. She did not pause to realise that she was one.
“We don’t meet in your Morning Star, apparently, do we!” she said, mocking, but with a slight quaver.
A deeper silence seemed suddenly to hold the two men.
“And I suppose a woman is really de trop, even there, when two men are together.”
But she faltered a bit in the saying. Cipriano, she knew, was baffled and stung when she taunted him.
Ramón answered her, with the gentleness that could come straight out of his heart: but still in Spanish:
“Why, Cousin, what is it?”
Her lip quivered, as