“I think,” she said, “that you tell all the girls that you meet that they are pretty. Do you?” “Me? Of course not.” “I think you do,” she said. “I think we are driving too far. Let’s stop for a minute and then go back.” “We ought to go back now,” he said. “In a minute. I want to smoke.” “I haven’t any cigarettes,” he said. “I don’t smoke, I’m afraid.” “You are a very nice little boy,” said Maria. “Little? I’m older than you are.” “I think not. I am fifteen.” “I am sixteen,” he said loftily. “I think it is time.” “What do you do all day in Santa Fé?” she asked. “Do you play tennis?” “Most of the time, or ride. This is vacation. What else would I do?” She sighed and looked at the mountains. “It must be so nice, playing tennis. Don’t you have a girl? My brother has a girl. He told me. He comes home so late at night that my father is always angry with him. It is not fair. I must go to bed every night at ten. Sometimes I think it is even better at the convent.” “Are they very strict with you there?” asked Blake. Her exclamation was an indrawn breath. “It is terrible. It is a prison.” “That must be awful.” “It is terrible. My mother says that they must not know that I pose for artists. I do not think it is bad, but she says they will think that the artists always make love. That is silly: my father would kill anyone who makes love to me. He says so. He would——” Suddenly, with no warning at all, she threw her arms around his neck fervently and dropped her head onto his shoulder. Blake did not move noticeably, but his blood froze and his muscles stiffened. He was petrified with shock. His mind registered a vague scent of hair, black and rather oily. It tickled his cheek. He waited for a long time, hoping that she would release him, but she did not even relax. At last, his resistance broken by waiting, he shifted a little and put an arm around her tentatively. He stopped again and waited to see what it felt like. There was no change in his emotions: he simply noticed that she felt very thin. What could he do? What should he do? He thought of someone coming around the corner, and he grew more and more afraid. “Oh, Blake,” said Maria at last in a high voice, “we are being bad.” She lifted her head and he thought that her face looked very odd at close view. She was waiting for something. Oh, yes. He struggled with the conviction that she was waiting for him to kiss her. Would she let go? He kissed her with a sudden little peck at her lips, and she let go. “You’re going to be awfully late,” he said. “Yes, we must go.” He turned the car and started back, going as fast as he dared. He was shaking, and so flustered that he almost ran into a tree. He wanted to get home. He wanted to put her out as soon as possible and get home. Was this what she meant about Revelita? Now he couldn’t possibly ask Madden anything about it: some day, perhaps—— “You’re not very fast, are you?” she asked him, breaking the silence for the first time.