And Cogan inquired
further--was there a daughter who would be now about eighteen? 'A
daughter? Blood of a bull--surely.' And beautiful? Beautee-full! the
Senorita Roca beautee-full? Mother of God!' If he wished, he could post
himself on the Pasada that very afternoon--any afternoon--and see her
driving with her jolly good father or her proud mother, or it might be
with Senor Lorenzo de Guavera. 'And,' added Ferrero, 'you will meet Juan
there also--if he ees returned from the ranch.'
"In the cool of the afternoon they went to the Pasada, which is where
everybody in Lima who has a pair of horses and a coachman goes driving
of an afternoon. They pace up one side and down the other. Cogan never
saw so many fine horses and beautiful women in such a short time. And he
saw the hat dealer--the same lively, good-humored Grand Duke man to look
at, dressed in the same style of white ducks and big Panama hat, with
the same great beard down on his chest. Beside him was a stately,
beautiful girl. Cogan stared. He could see the resemblance right away.
'That must be an elder sister,' he thought, 'and that must be her
mother.' The mother was beautiful, too; but also she knew it. There was
also a well-set-up, well-dressed, well-groomed, distinguished looking
man.
"Cogan was staring after the carriage, when he heard a voice in his ear.
Ferrero was speaking to him.
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