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"
Well
,
nothing
,
woman
,
"
the
deaf
man
said
.
"
It
is
all
right
.
But
I
am
thinking
.
"
"
Me
,
too
,
"
Pilar
had
said
and
now
as
they
walked
down
the
trail
,
the
walking
easy
and
pleasant
down
the
steep
trail
through
the
pines
that
they
had
toiled
up
,
Pilar
said
nothing
.
Neither
Robert
Jordan
nor
Maria
spoke
and
the
three
of
them
travelled
along
fast
until
the
trail
rose
steeply
out
of
the
wooded
valley
to
come
up
through
the
timber
,
leave
it
,
and
come
out
into
the
high
meadow
.
It
was
hot
in
the
late
May
afternoon
and
halfway
up
this
last
steep
grade
the
woman
stopped
.
Robert
Jordan
,
stopping
and
looking
back
,
saw
the
sweat
beading
on
her
forehead
.
He
thought
her
brown
face
looked
pallid
and
the
skin
sallow
and
that
there
were
dark
areas
under
her
eyes
.
"
Let
us
rest
a
minute
,
"
he
said
.
"
We
go
too
fast
.
"
"
No
,
"
she
said
.
"
Let
us
go
on
.
"
"
Rest
,
Pilar
,
"
Maria
said
.
"
You
look
badly
.
"
"
Shut
up
,
"
the
woman
said
.
"
Nobody
asked
for
thy
advice
.
"
She
started
on
up
the
trail
but
at
the
top
she
was
breathing
heavily
and
her
face
was
wet
with
perspiration
and
there
was
no
doubt
about
her
pallor
now
.
"
Sit
down
,
Pilar
,
"
Maria
said
.
"
Please
,
please
sit
down
.
"
"
All
right
,
"
said
Pilar
and
the
three
of
them
sat
down
under
a
pine
tree
and
looked
across
the
mountain
meadow
to
where
the
tops
of
the
peaks
seemed
to
jut
out
from
the
roll
of
the
high
country
with
snow
shining
bright
on
them
now
in
the
early
afternoon
sun
.
