There is some consolation for everything in this world." In his bulky right hand he imprisoned her two, and, passing his other arm around her waist, he was guiding her little by little toward the exit from the salon.
"Trust in God," he added.

"Why do you seek the captain who has his own wife ashore ?...

Other men who are free are still in existence, and you could make some arrangement with them without falling into mortal sin." Freya was not listening to him.

Near the door she again turned her head, beginning her return toward the captain's stateroom.
"Ulysses!...

Ulysses!" she cried.
"Trust in God, Senora," said Caragol again, while he was pushing her along with his flabby abdomen and shaggy breast.
A charitable idea was taking possession of his thoughts.