Maria said nothing but lay there, trying to make her head rest lightly.
"Listen, guapa," said Pilar and ran her finger now absently but tracingly over the contours of her cheeks. "Listen, guapa, I love thee and he can have thee, I am no tortillera but a woman made for men. That is true. But now it gives me pleasure to say thus, in the daytime, that I care for thee."
"I love thee, too."
"Que va. Do not talk nonsense. Thou dost not know even of what I speak."
"I know."
"Que va, that you know. You are for the Ingles. That is seen and as it should be. That I would have. Anything else I would not have. I do not make perversions. I only tell you something true. Few people will ever talk to thee truly and no women. I am jealous and say it and it is there. And I say it."
"Do not say it," Maria said. "Do not say it, Pilar."
"Por que, do not say it," the woman said, still not looking at either of them. "I will say it until it no longer pleases me to say it. And," she looked down at the girl now, "that time has come already. I do not say it more, you understand?"
"Pilar," Maria said. "Do not talk thus."
"Thou art a very pleasant little rabbit," Pilar said. "And lift thy head now because this silliness is over."
"It was not silly," said Maria. "And my head is well where it is."
"Nay. Lift it," Pilar told her and put her big hands under the girl's head and raised it. "And thou, Ingles?" she said, still holding the girl's head as she looked across at the mountains. "What cat has eaten thy tongue?"
"No cat," Robert Jordan said.
"What animal then?" She laid the girl's head down on the ground.
"No animal," Robert Jordan told her.
"You swallowed it yourself, eh?"
"I guess so," Robert Jordan said.
"And did you like the taste?" Pilar turned now and grinned at him.
"Not much."
"I thought not," Pilar said. "I thought not. But I give you back our rabbit. Nor ever did I try to take your rabbit. That's a good name for her. I heard you call her that this morning."
Robert Jordan felt his face redden.
"You are a very hard woman," he told her.
"No," Pilar said. "But so simple I am very complicated. Are you very complicated, Ingles?"
"No. Nor not so simple."
"You please me, Ingles," Pilar said. Then she smiled and leaned forward and smiled and shook her head. "Now if I could take the rabbit from thee and take thee from the rabbit."
"You could not."
"I know it," Pilar said and smiled again. "Nor would I wish to. But when I was young I could have."
"I believe it."
"You believe it?"
"Surely," Robert Jordan said. "But such talk is nonsense."
"It is not like thee," Maria said.
"I am not much like myself today," Pilar said. "Very little like myself. Thy bridge has given me a headache, Ingles."
"We can tell it the Headache Bridge," Robert Jordan said. "But I will drop it in that gorge like a broken bird cage."
"Good," said Pilar. "Keep on talking like that."
"I'll drop it as you break a banana from which you have removed the skin."
"I could eat a banana now," said Pilar. "Go on, Ingles. Keep on talking largely."
"There is no need," Robert Jordan said. "Let us get to camp."
"Thy duty," Pilar said. "It will come quickly enough. I said that I would leave the two of you."
"No. I have much to do."
"That is much too and does not take long."
"Shut thy mouth, Pilar," Maria said. "You speak grossly."
"I am gross," Pilar said. "But I am also very delicate. Soy muy delicada. I will leave the two of you. And the talk of jealousness is nonsense. I was angry at Joaquin because I saw from his look how ugly I am. I am only jealous that you are nineteen. It is not a jealousy which lasts. You will not be nineteen always. Now I go."
She stood up and with a hand on one hip looked at Robert Jordan, who was also standing. Maria sat on the ground under the tree, her head dropped forward.
"Let us all go to camp together," Robert Jordan said. "It is better and there is much to do."
Pilar nodded with her head toward Maria, who sat there, her head turned away from them, saying nothing.
Pilar smiled and shrugged her shoulders almost imperceptibly and said, "You know the way?"
"I know it," Maria said, not raising her head.
"Pues me voy," Pilar said. "Then I am going. We'll have something hearty for you to eat, Ingles."
She started to walk off into the heather of the meadow toward the stream that led down through it toward the camp.
"Wait," Robert Jordan called to her. "It is better that we should all go together."
Maria sat there and said nothing.
Pilar did not turn.
"Que va, go together," she said. "I will see thee at the camp."
Robert Jordan stood there.
"Is she all right?" he asked Maria. "She looked ill before."
"Let her go," Maria said, her head still down.
"I think I should go with her."
"Let her go," said Maria. "Let her go!"
13
They were walking through the heather of the mountain meadow and Robert Jordan felt the brushing of the heather against his legs, felt the weight of his pistol in its holster against his thigh, felt the sun on his head, felt the breeze from the snow of the mountain peaks cool on his back and, in his hand, he felt the girl's hand firm and strong, the fingers locked in his. From it, from the palm of her hand against the palm of his, from their fingers locked together, and from her wrist across his wrist something came from her hand, her fingers and her wrist to his that was as fresh as the first light air that moving toward you over the sea barely wrinkles the glassy surface of a calm, as light as a feather moved across one's lip, or a leaf falling when there is no breeze; so light that it could be felt with the touch of their fingers alone, but that was so strengthened, so intensified, and made so urgent, so aching and so strong by the hard pressure of their fingers and the close pressed palm and wrist, that it was as though a current moved up his arm and filled his whole body with an aching hollowness of wanting. With the sun shining on her hair, tawny as wheat, and on her gold-brown smooth-lovely face and on the curve of her throat he bent her head back and held her to him and kissed her. He felt her trembling as he kissed her and he held the length of her body tight to him and felt her breasts against his chest through the two khaki shirts, he felt them small and firm and he reached and undid the buttons on her shirt and bent and kissed her and she stood shivering, holding her head back, his arm behind her. Then she dropped her chin to his head and then he felt her hands holding his head and rocking it against her. He straightened and with his two arms around her held her so tightly that she was lifted off the ground, tight against him, and he felt her trembling and then her lips were on his throat, and then he put her down and said, "Maria, oh, my Maria."
Then he said, "Where should we go?"
She did not say anything but slipped her hand inside of his shirt and he felt her undoing the shirt buttons and she said, "You, too. I want to kiss, too."
"No, little rabbit."