At her first glance in his
face, her countenance hardened into an expression of disgust and
defiance. Returning to the kitchen, she said scornfully, disdaining
all disguises, "Jim's drunk. No use your talking to him to-night.
Wait till morning."
"Till morning!" A groan escaped from Alessandro, in spite of
himself. "I can't!" he cried. "I must go on to-night."
"Why, what for?" exclaimed Mrs. Hartsel, much astonished. For
one brief second Alessandro revolved in his mind the idea of
confiding everything to her; only for a second, however. No; the
fewer knew his secret and Ramona's, the better.
"I must be in San Diego to-morrow," he said.
"Got work there?" she said.
"Yes; that is, in San Pasquale," he said; "and I ought to have been
there three days ago."
Mrs. Hartsel mused. "Jim can't do anything to-night," she said;
"that's certain. You might see the man yourself, and ask him if he'd
buy it,"
Alessandro shook his head. An invincible repugnance withheld
him. He could not face one of these Americans who were "coming
in" to his valley.
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