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“Señorita, I am staying at the Alvear Palace. My call is important. Official business. Might I suggest that you walk down there with me and make your call from one of the telephones in the lobby?”

 

; Inspiration! I don’t know where that idea came from, but it was divinely inspired. I can walk out of here with her—if I can get rid of the older sister, that would not be a bad idea, in any case—which will satisfy Grüner’s curiosity about what happened to me. And I can telephone Clete from my room.

I don’t have his goddamned number! How the hell do I get the number?

“In Argentina, Capitán, young ladies of a certain position do not go to a gentleman’s hotel,” Isabela said.

Shit!

“Señorita, I am a stranger to your country. No offense was intended.”

“And none should have been taken,” Alicia said. “If you need to make a telephone call from the hotel, I’ll be happy to walk there with you. It would be nice to leave here anyway.”

“You are very gracious.”

And you have marvelous eyes. I wonder why I never noticed that before.

“Señorita, what are the customs of Argentina? May a stranger to your country telephone a young lady of a certain class and ask her to take dinner with him?”

“If the stranger is a gentleman, and you certainly are,” Alicia said, “and they have been properly introduced, and we have, in the presence of the young lady’s mother, then it is acceptable.”

“Wonderful! And might I presume to avail myself of this acceptable custom in the next day or two?”

“You may call, and I will see if I am free.”

“You can’t tell me that now?”

“You may call,” Alicia teased, “and I will see if I am free.”

“I will adjust my schedule to yours,” Peter said. I will, as a matter of fact, now that the subject has come up, do everything necessary, including standing on my head, to see that fantastic hair undone and spread out on my pillow. “But for now, Señorita, may I accept your gracious offer to walk to the hotel with me, so that I can use the telephone.”

“You may not care about your reputation, Alicia,” Isabela said. “But I do. I can’t let you go to the Alvear alone with el Capitán von Wachtstein.”

“How do you propose to stop me?” Alicia said. “Wrestle me to the ground?”

She has a spark too. I like that.

“Perhaps,” Isabela said, “under the circumstances—I would have to ask Mother—we could escort an honored guest of our country to the Alvear.”

“I’ll ask Mother,” Alicia said firmly, and turned to Peter. “You will wait for me?”

“With my heart beating frantically in anticipation of your return.”

He watched her move across the foyer. The curve of her hips is magnificent too, and she has a delightful walk. When she disappeared behind a door, he turned to Isabela. “And will you excuse me a moment, Señorita?”

“Certainly,” Isabela said.

And with a little bit of luck, you won’t be here when I come back.

He walked quickly across the foyer toward a corridor.

One of the servants surely knows the number of the Guest House. I just hope this corridor leads me to the kitchen.

He was in luck in the kitchen, which he hoped would turn out to be an omen: The first person to notice him there was the housekeeper from the Guest House.

“May I help you, mi Capitán?” Señora Pellano asked, smiling as she walked up to him.


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