We parted from him and entered the darkened tea room, with its
wicker tables and chairs, and soft lights, glowing pinkly, to
simulate night in the broad light of afternoon outside. A fountain
splashed soothingly in the centre. Everything was done to lend to
the place an exotic air of romance.
Alfonso and his mother had chosen a far corner, deeper than the
rest in the shadows, where two wicker settees were drawn up about
a table, effectually cutting off inquisitive eyes and ears.
Alfonso rose as we approached and bowed deeply. I could not help
watching the two women as they greeted each other.
"Won't you be seated?" he asked, pulling around one of the wicker
chairs.
It was then that I saw how he had contrived to sit next to Inez,
while Kennedy manoeuvred to sit on the end, where he could observe
them all best.
It was a rather delicate situation, and I wondered how Kennedy
would handle it, for, although Alfonso had done the inviting, it
was really Craig who was responsible for allowing Inez to accept.
The Senora seemed to recognize it, also, for, although she talked
to Inez, it was plain she had him in mind.
"I have heard from Alfonso about the cruel death of your father,"
she began, in a softened tone, "and I haven't had a chance to tell
you how deeply I sympathize with you.
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