"I wished, of course, to see you also, though I am aware that the
affections are out of place in this--holy atmosphere."

She winced almost imperceptibly and said nothing.

"I want to see Juanita de Mogente," said the Count. "It is unusual, I
know, but in this place you are all-powerful. It is important, or I
should not ask it."

"She is in bed. They go to bed at eight o'clock."

"I know. Is not that all the better? She has a room to herself, I
recollect. You can arouse her and bring her to me and no one need know
that she has had a visitor--except, I suppose, the peeping eyes that
haunt a nunnery corridor."

He gave a shrug of the shoulder.

"Mother of God!" he exclaimed. "The air of secrecy infects one. I am not
a secretive man. All the world knows my opinions. And here am I plotting
like a friar. Can I see Juanita?"

And he laughed quietly as he looked at his sister.

"Yes, I suppose so."

He nodded his thanks.

"And, Dolores, listen!" he said. "Let me see her alone. It may save
complications in the future. You understand?"