CHAPTER THREE
Dolores Delgado was a beautiful woman, Rita Serrano thought. She had long, dark hair parted in the middle, and eyes like the Virgin's. She wore a backless, black gown that was most becoming. She seemed a little too eager to see Memo, and Rita felt jealous.
She'd greeted them both most cordially and had hugged Memo with affection. She sighed now, and her deep, dark eyes began to fill with tears.
She'd just turned twenty-one, Rita had learned. She'd married at eighteen, but had left her husband and was, at present, chiefly interested in politics.
Memo and she had known each other since childhood, when they'd played in the narrow, dirty streets of a small Mexican village, together with her sister and Memo's brother, Chucho. Then a terrible disease had come and had taken h
