'"
Senora de Moche made the remarks with a quiet dignity which left
no doubt in my mind that the race feeling cut deeply.
She had risen now, and in place of the awesome fear of the curse
and tragedy of the treasure her face was burning and her eyes
flashed.
"Old Don Luis thought I was good enough to amuse his idle hours,"
she cried. "But when he saw that Alfonso was in love with his
daughter, that she might return that love, then I found out
bitterly that he placed us in another class, another caste."
Kennedy had been following her closely, and I could see now that
the cross-currents of superstition, avarice, and race hatred in
the case presented a tangle that challenged him.
There was nothing more that we could extract from her just then.
She had remained standing, as a gentle reminder that the interview
had already been long.
Kennedy took the hint. "I wish to thank you for the trouble you
have gone to," he bowed, after we, too, had risen. "You have told
me quite enough to make me think seriously before I join in any
such undertaking."
She smiled enigmatically. Whether it was that she had enjoyed
penetrating our rather clumsy excuse for seeing her, or that she
felt that the horror of the curse had impressed us, she seemed
well content.
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