you, Weeliam. But I am angry that you have
thought of such nonsense. Such friends as we
were! We have talked and read together by the
hour, and my parents have thought no more of it
than if it had been Santiago. There! You have a
new book in your pocket. Why did you not read it
to me instead of making love? Let me see it."

"I brought it to read later if you wished, but I
came to ask you to marry me and to receive your
answer. I never expected to ask you--but--lately
--things have changed--life seems, somehow, more
real. The thought of losing you has suddenly be-
come terrible."

"You have been drinking Russian tea," said Con-
cha, stitching quietly but flashing him a glance of
amusement, not wholly without malice.

"It is true," he replied. "I suppose I never really
believed you would marry Raimundo or Ignacio or
any of the caballeros. They think and talk of noth-
ing but horse-racing, gambling, cock-fighting, love
and cigaritos. I thought of you always here, where
at least I could look at you or read with you. But
one must admit that this Russian is no ordinary
man. I hate him, yet like him more than any I have
ever met. Last night I stayed to punch with him,
and we talked English for an hour. That is to say,
he did; I could have listened to him till morning.