"An' now, 'ow much
weigh?"
"I don't know exactly," Lucia said.
"What's your name?" the bandit went on.
"Lucia." "Lucia!" he rolled the name over on his tongue, and smiled.
"Lucia!" he repeated. "Ees nice name." Then, "Come 'ere. Come 'ere!" He did
not wait for her to move this time. He put out his hand and drew her close
to him. "I would see more of you," he told her. And, to her amazement and
horror, he lifted her skirt delicately, almost tenderly. Her womanhood
revolted at his action. This barbarian! She slapped his hand. But Lopez
paid no more attention to the blow than if a child had struck him. "Not
bad," he went on, indifferently, referring to her well-turned ankle. "'Ow
you like to go wiz me to Mexico? Well?" when she did not answer. "You 'eard
what I said."
That she should be insulted thus! "But--oh, I couldn't do that!" she cried
out, in terror.
"Why not?" Lopez demanded.
"I'm--married."
"Well, we will not take ze 'usband! Just you an' me. We go to ze
bull-fight. I rob ze jewelry store for you. We get plenty dronk." She
shuddered. "Sure! I show you 'ell of a good time. Well, 'ow you say?" He
glared at her, almost winked, smiled, and let a ring of smoke curl upward.
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