A sunny, beautiful country, maybe; but
no place for a God-fearing American citizen to settle. Why, they would as
soon commit murder in Mexico as go to market.
"Haven't you any laws in Mexico?" Lucia inquired.
"We 'ave--ze best," Lopez was swift to reply.
"But you just said--" Angela started to remind him, and took a little stool
and moved close to him, seating herself upon it. She did not want him to
forget her girlish sweetness. Lopez paid no heed to her.
"They are ze best because each man makes them for 'imself. Not like New
York, where everybody tell you what you cannot do until zere is nozzing
left what you want to do."
Angela piped up: "You've been to New York?"
"When I was agent for Madero--yes. I live at ze big hotel. I 'ave planty
money. Ees no damn prohibition. I get dronk. I 'ave 'ell of a time. Sure! I
see 'im all! New York!" he smiled in recollection.
"And you didn't like it?" Angela persisted, moving her little stool even
closer to him.
"Like it? It makes me seeck! Even beautiful woman what I see 'ave 'osband
what is afraid for 'er. Each time I get dronk comes big policeman which 'it
me on ze 'ead." He smiled at the thought, "When I go to ze teatro, ees
someone which 'ide under--ze bed.
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