Maruja stopped at the same moment
on her side of the fence.
The tramp looked at her deliberately, and then slowly lowered his
eyes. "I'm looking for the San Jose road, hereabouts. Ye don't
happen to know it?" he said, addressing himself to the top of the
fence.
It had been said that it was not Maruja's way to encounter man,
woman, or child, old or young, without an attempt at subjugation.
Strong in her power and salient with fascination, she leaned gently
over the fence, and with the fan raised to her delicate ear, made
him repeat his question under the soft fire of her fringed eyes.
He did so, but incompletely, and with querulous laziness.
"Lookin'--for--San Jose road--here'bouts."
"The road to San Jose," said Maruja, with gentle slowness, as if
not unwilling to protract the conversation, "is about two miles
from here. It is the high road to the left fronting the plain.
There is another way, if--"
"Don't want it! Mornin'."
He dropped his head suddenly forward, and limped away in the
sunlight.
CHAPTER III
Breakfast, usually a movable feast at La Mision Perdida, had been
prolonged until past midday; the last of the dance guests had
flown, and the home party--with the exception of Captain Carroll,
who had returned to duty at his distant post--were dispersing; some
as riding cavalcades to neighboring points of interest; some to
visit certain notable mansions which the wealth of a rapid
civilization had erected in that fertile valley.
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