There were a million things he wanted to say and there was no place to start. The dark-blue eyes were watching him closely now and her smile was sweet and suddenly he knew that what had to be said could much better be said tomorrow or the next day or the day after that.
There would be plenty of time and so he leaned back beside her, his shoulder touching hers while the strain and the worry began to drain slowly from his body. Somewhere in the distance he heard Julio Cordovez chattering in excited Spanish, but he did not listen. For the moment he
was content to sit unthinking beside this girl who understood his mood and made no demands of her own. They were still there three minutes later when the first of the radio cars arrived.