"You bet! If she runs away you trip her up. Oh, it's great to be
in love!"
"Without doubt, sar."
"She's a corker, isn't she?"
"I do not know as to that," Allan demurred. "What may be a
carker?"
"I mean she's beautiful."
"Oh, h'indeed so! And her h'eyes--like h'ink spots, as you say."
"Was she wearing a denim dress when you saw her?"
"Yes, yes," eagerly agreed the negro. "Oh, there is no mistake. It
was a red dress."
"No, it wasn't. It was blue."
"H'exactly, sar--a sort of reddish blue."
"And she was--petite?"
"Rather more dark, I should say."
"I mean she was small."
"Oh, it is the same female. It is h'exciting, is it not?"
Kirk acknowledged that it was exciting, for, now that he had a
full day in which to besiege No. 89, he felt certain of gaining a
word at least with his inamorata. He was in good time, it seemed,
for hardly had he taken his customary station before the Cathedral
bells awoke the slumberous echoes of the city.
"Praise God, she will be coming soon!" Allan exclaimed. "I shall
h'expire from fright. Look! There! THERE!"
Down the wide stairs leading from the living-rooms of Senor Torres
came two women, and the negro danced in excitement. As they
emerged upon the sidewalk the younger one flashed a glance at the
men opposite, and Kirk saw that she was a mulatto--evidently a
housemaid.
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