“Hola Marteen!” She exclaimed cheerfully. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. “You cannot! Oh, you cannot. ’ She pronounced the name with painstaking accuracy, Gerald noticed. ’ She halted, her pistol still held firm and straight, both hands gripping it, her expressive features at once determined and uncertain. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. Then he relaxed back a little, and let the weapon dangle from his fingers.
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