He was a little flurried, as a girl is flurried at her first ball, and felt that the eye of the black-letter saints was upon him.
He shook hands absent-mindedly with his friends, and was already making mental note of their addition to the number secured for to-morrow's ceremony.

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." Marcos made no reply, but walked on, wrapt in thought.
"I must see Juanita," he said, at length, after a long silence, and Sarrion's wise eyes were softened by a smile which flitted across them like a flash of sunlight across a darkened field.
"Remember," he said, "that Juanita is a child.

She cannot be expected to know her own mind for at least three years." Marcos nodded his head, as if he knew what was coming.
"And remember that the danger is imminent--that Evasio Mon is not the man to let the grass grow beneath his feet--that we cannot let Juanita wait...

three weeks." "I know," answered Marcos..