With no protective footlights between himself and her, Roland came to the conclusion that he had made a mistake. It was not that she was any less beautiful at the very close quarters imposed by the limits of the dressing-room; but he felt that in falling in love with her he had undertaken a contract a little too large for one of his quiet, diffident nature. It crossed his mind that the sort of woman he really liked was the rather small, drooping type. Dynamite would not have made Maraquita droop.
For perhaps a minute and a half Maraquita fixed her compelling eyes on his without uttering a word. Then she broke a painful silence with this leading question:
“When men make love to me, I send them away--so.”
She waved her hand toward the door, and Roland began to feel almost cheerful again. He was to be dismissed with a caution, after all. The woman had a fine, forgiving nature.
“No, not you. You are the man I have been waiting for. I read about you in the paper, Senor Bleke. I see your picture in the 'Daily Mirror!' I say to myself, 'What a man!'”
“Those picture-paper photographs always make one look rather weird,” mumbled Roland.
“I see you night after night in your box. Poof! I love you.”
“You would do anything for my sake, _hein_? I knew you were that kind of man directly I see you. No,” she added, as Roland writhed uneasily in his chair, “do not embrace me. Later, yes, but now, no. Not till the Great Day.”
What the Great Day might be Roland could not even faintly conjecture. He could only hope that it would also be a remote one.
“And now,” said the Senorita, throwing a cloak about her shoulders, “you come away with me to my house. My friends are there awaiting us. They will be glad and proud to meet you.”
After his first inspection of the house and the friends, Roland came to the conclusion that he preferred Maraquita's room to her company. The former was large and airy, the latter, with one exception, small and hairy.
The exception Maraquita addressed as Bombito. He was a conspicuous figure. He was one of those out-size, hasty-looking men. One suspected him of carrying lethal weapons.
Maraquita presented Roland to the company. The native speech of Paranoya sounded like shorthand, with a blend of Spanish. An expert could evidently squeeze a good deal of it into a minute. Its effect on the company was good. They were manifestly soothed. Even Bombito.