Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 13, 2025
Sor Teresa, absorbed in prayer, never turned her head. The service went on uninterruptedly. Sarrion led the way and Mon followed. Juanita glanced at Marcos, indicated with a nod Evasio Mon's back, and made a gay little grimace, suggestive of that schemer's discomfiture. Then she followed Mon, and Marcos came noiselessly behind her.
"What do you make of all this?" asked Sarrion, addressing himself to the Englishman, who, however, rather cleverly passed the question on to the older man with a slow, British gesture. "I make of it that they only want a little money to make Don Carlos king," said Deulin. "What is Evasio Mon doing in Madrid?" asked Sarrion.
"Juanita looks well and happy," he said, after a pause. Sarrion looked at him and made no reply. He was borrowing from the absent Marcos a trick of silence which he knew to be effective in a subtle war of words. "Do you not think so?" "I am sure of it, Evasio." Sarrion was wondering why he had come to Torre Garda this stormy petrel of clerical politics whose coming never boded good.
The chapel was carpeted with an old and faded matting of grass such as is made on all the coasts of the Mediterranean. Marcos and Sarrion went forward noiselessly. Instinctively they crossed themselves as they neared the chancel. Evasio Mon was nearest to them kneeling apart, a few paces behind Leon.
It will be remembered that he closed his glasses with a smile not a smile of amusement or of contempt not even a deep smile such as people wear in books. It was merely a smile, and could not be construed into anything else by any physiognomist. The wrinkles that made it were deeply marked, which suggested that Evasio Mon had learnt to smile when he was quite young. He had, perhaps, been taught.
Cousin Peligros was taking the siesta by which she sought to forestall a possible fatigue later in the day. There are some people who seem to have the misfortune to be absent on the rare occasions when they are wanted. "He is not coming into this room," said Juanita, coolly. "I will go down and see him." Evasio Mon greeted her with a gay smile.
There had been much to detain the Sarrions at Saragossa and Juanita had to wait for the gratification of her desire to smell the pines and the bracken again. It seemed that it was no one's business to question the validity of the strange marriage in the chapel of Our Lady of the Shadows. Evasio Mon who was supposed to know more about it than any other, only smiled and said nothing.
He was very earnest about it, and Marcos left him with a sudden softening of the heart towards him, such as the strong must always feel for the weak. "You see," said Sarrion, when they were in the street, "what Evasio Mon has made him. I do not know whether you are disposed to hand over Juanita and her three million pesetas to Evasio Mon as well."
"What is that it sounds like thunder or guns?" inquired Evasio Mon, pausing in his late and simple luncheon in the dining-room. "A clerical ear like yours should not know the sound of guns," replied Sarrion with a curt laugh. "It is not that, however. It is a cart or a carriage crossing the bridge below the village." Mon nodded his head and continued to give his attention to his plate.
"That neither you nor any other in the world may see or speak to her but I must close the grille." And the little shutter was sharply shut in Sarrion's face. This was the beginning of a quest which, for a fortnight, continued entirely fruitless. Evasio Mon it appeared was on a pilgrimage. Sor Teresa had gone to Pampeluna. The inexorable gate of the convent school remained shut to all comers.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking