The three Americans rose to salute him, but
discipline was lax and he waved them back to their seats. Other
eyes than his, too, had noted Miss Evans's reappearance after her
siesta, for Major Ramos, Norine's escort from headquarters, soon
joined the group, and he was followed by two Camagueyan
lieutenants.
These latter were youths of some family standing. Before the war
they had been dandies, and they still had an excellent opinion of
their physical charms, but, unfortunately, they spoke no English
and hence their attentions to Norine had been somewhat vague and
pointless. They possessed eloquent eyes, however, and now they
languished melting glances upon her, the meaning of which she had
no difficulty in translating.
"We've been talking about food," Leslie Branch advised his
commanding officer. "Miss Evans isn't a burning patriot like the
rest of us, and so of course she can't share our ravenous appetite
for beef cooked and eaten on the hoof."
"So?" Lopez's handsome face clouded. "You are hungry, then?"
Norine confessed that she was. "I'm starving!" said she. "I
haven't had a decent meal for a week."
"God be praised! I know where there is a goat, not two leagues
away!" said the colonel.
"But I don't want a goat," Norine complained. "I want--well,
pickles, and jam, and sardines, and--candy, and--tooth-powder!
Real boarding-school luxuries.
Pages:
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282