“Just how did you approach your subject?” he asked courteously.
“We stood up and I suddenly leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. I felt a little foolish as I am much taller than Sandoval and I had to lean down.”
“Yes?”
“I don't think any Indian since Attahualpa has been taken so completely by surprise. He gasped and said, ‘Why, Señora!’”
Lord Buzzy bit his lip and turning his back mixed himself another drink at the bar.
Then what did you do?” he mumbled, his back still turned.
“I climbed into my camp cot very fast and Sandoval rolled himself in a blanket by the fire.”
I again ruffled the pages of my magazine rather ostentatiously without a flicker of recognition from the Lord and the Lady. A door banged somewhere and Juan, delicately patting the palms of his hands on a scented handkerchief, bent his distinguished height gracefully from the hips in a courtly bow to Lady Cynthia.
“And how,” he asked, “is the jungle dweller?”
“It goes without saying,” I said, “that she is living proof of the success of a little escape from civilization. More important just now is—how are the fish turbans?”
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