It is only a little recess
in the wall, with barely room for a few kneeling figures, but at
night its bright radiance illumines the darkness round about and
lends the spot a certain sanctity.
Contrary to the usual custom, the Garavel mansion has a narrow
yard, almost smothered in tropical plants that crowd one another
through the iron bars and nod at the passers-by. Riotous vines
half screen the balconies: great overhanging red-tiled eaves give
the place an air of coziness which the verdure enhances. A subdued
light was glowing from the lower windows when Anthony mounted the
steps and rang.
An Indian woman, clad in barbarous colors, her bare feet encased
in sandals, admitted him, and the banker himself met him in the
hall. He led the way into a great barren parlor, where, to Kirk's
embarrassment, he found quite a company gathered. His host
formally presented him to them, one after another. There were
Senor Pedro Garavel, a brother of Andres; Senora Garavel, his
wife, who was fat and short of wind; the two Misses Garavel, their
daughters; then a little, wrinkled, brown old lady in stiff black
silk who spoke no English. Kirk gathered that she was somebody's
aunt or grandmother. Last of all, Gertrudis came shyly forward and
put her hand in his, then glided back to a seat behind the old
lady.
Pages:
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375