Всадник без головы

Chapter 27

           Ihavethemisfortunetoliveatatavern,or‘hotel,’asminehostispleasedtocallit;andonegetssotiredofthenoises—especiallyaninvalid,asIhavethebadlucktobe—thataridealongthisquietroadissomethingakintoluxury.Thecoolshadeoftheseacacias—whichtheMexicanshavevulgarisedbythenameofmezquites—withthebreezethatkeepsconstantlycirculatingthroughtheirfan-likefoliage,wouldinvigoratethefeeblestofframes.Don’tyouthinkso,MissPoindexter?"

           "Youshouldknowbest,sir,"wasthereplyvouchsafed,aftersomesecondsofembarrassment."You,whohavesooftentriedit."

           "Often!IhavebeenonlytwicedownthisroadsinceIhavebeenabletositinmysaddle.But,MissPoindexter,mayIaskhowyouknewthatIhavebeenthiswayatall?"

           "Oh!"rejoinedLouise,hercolourgoingandcomingasshespoke,"howcouldIhelpknowingit?Iaminthehabitofspendingmuchtimeonthehousetop.Theview,thebreeze,themusicofthebirds,ascendingfromthegardenbelow,makesitadelightfulspot—especiallyinthecoolofthemorning.Ourroofcommandsaviewofthisroad.Beingupthere,howcouldIavoidseeingyouasyoupassed—thatis,solongasyouwerenotundertheshadeoftheacacias?"

           "Yousawme,then?"saidMaurice,withanembarrassedair,whichwasnotcausedbytheinnuendoconveyedinherlastwords—whichhecouldnothavecomprehended—butbyaremembranceofhowhehadhimselfbehavedwhileridingalongthereachofopenroad.

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