“This will be your room,” Juarez was saying, “and it may be a comfort for you to know that mine is on the other side of the cave that we have just left.”
She thought he spoke mockingly.
Her chin went up and she stiffened.
But before she could speak a young woman came in through the door that they had just entered the room through.
“This is Zeeti,” Juarez said, “and, as I told you, she understands a little English.”
Zeeti was an Indian girl and was, Orina thought, very pretty.
She made Orina a deep obeisance with her hands pressed together in the Indian manner of greeting.
“I look – after – señorita,” she said in hesitating English.
“Thank you,” Orina smiled.
“Your clothes will be coming tomorrow,” Juarez told her.
“My – clothes?” Orina repeated stupidly.
“I forgot to tell you,”
