Hear me, interloper, I will not have you dance with her or speak to
her again. The rest of the house is yours--and welcome." He was
answered in Spanish.
"With my compliments, mind your own business. When I need advice I
shall come to you, and not before. Who are you--and pray, who am I?"
"I--I am Senor Carlos Gerardo," he answered in the native tongue. "How
do I know you? Bah! I know every man in the room. You heard what I
said about Adelita. Now remember."
Henderson turned on his heel and walked directly over to where the
girl stood, talking with the shepherdess. Adelita looked down as he
came up and tapped the floor nervously with the toe of a red slipper.
Her face was flushed.
"May I have this dance?" he asked.
"Surely."
They swung off to the tune of a catchy American popular air. Few of
the dances had been Spanish. He waited, and at last she broke the
silence.
"Carlos danced with me and tried to get me to speak, but I would not.
Nevertheless he knows me, and is angry--very angry. But it will do him
good. He--he said he was going to speak to you.
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