Jose is coming. He has sent for you. He takes his supper to-night
on the corridor. Listen, Diego. He must not see you thus. You
have been drinking again. I will keep you from him. I will say
you are not well.

Sandy. Couldn't you, my darling, keep him from ME? Couldn't you
make him think HE was sick? Couldn't you say he's exposin' his
precious health by sittin' out thar to-night; thet ther's chills
and fever in every breath? (Aside.) Ef the old Don plants himself
in that chair, that gal's chances for goin' out to-night is gone up.

Manuela. Never. He would suspect at once. Listen, Diego. If Don
Jose does not know that his daughter steals away with you to meet
some caballero, some LOVER,--you understand, Diego,--it is because
he does not know, or would not SEEM to know, what every one else in
the rancho knows. Have a care, foolish Diego! If Don Jose is old
and blind, look you, friend, we are NOT. You understand?

Sandy (aside). What the devil does she expect?--money? No!
(Aloud.) Look yer, Manuela, you ain't goin' to blow on that young
gal! (Putting his arm around her waist.) Allowin' that she hez a
lover, thar ain't nothin' onnateral in thet, bein' a purty sort o'
gal. Why, suppose somebody should see you and me together like
this, and should just let on to the old man.

Manuela. Hush! (Disengaging herself.) Hush! He is coming. Let
me go, Diego. It is Don Jose!

Enter Don Jose, who walks gravely to the table, and seats himself.
MANUELA retires to table.