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"
Not
by
thee
.
"
"
Well
,
then
,
blanco
—
—
"
"
Nor
that
,
either
.
"
"
What
are
you
then
,
Red
?
"
"
Yes
.
Red
.
Rojo
.
With
the
Red
star
of
the
army
and
in
favor
of
the
Republic
.
And
my
name
is
Agustín
.
"
"
What
a
patriotic
man
,
"
Pablo
said
.
"
Look
,
Inglés
,
what
an
exemplary
patriot
.
"
Agustín
hit
him
hard
across
the
mouth
with
his
left
hand
,
bringing
it
forward
in
a
slapping
,
backhand
sweep
.
Pablo
sat
there
.
The
corners
of
his
mouth
were
wine
-
stained
and
his
expression
did
not
change
,
but
Robert
Jordan
watched
his
eyes
narrow
,
as
a
cat
’
s
pupils
close
to
vertical
slits
in
a
strong
light
.
"
Nor
this
,
"
Pablo
said
.
"
Do
not
count
on
this
,
woman
.
"
He
turned
his
head
toward
Pilar
.
"
I
am
not
provoked
.
"
Agustín
hit
him
again
.
This
time
he
hit
him
on
the
mouth
with
his
closed
fist
.
Robert
Jordan
was
holding
his
pistol
in
his
hand
under
the
table
.
He
had
shoved
the
safety
catch
off
and
he
pushed
Maria
away
with
his
left
hand
.
She
moved
a
little
way
and
he
pushed
her
hard
in
the
ribs
with
his
left
hand
again
to
make
her
get
really
away
.
She
was
gone
now
and
he
saw
her
from
the
corner
of
his
eye
,
slipping
along
the
side
of
the
cave
toward
the
fire
and
now
Robert
Jordan
watched
Pablo
’
s
face
.
The
round
-
headed
man
sat
staring
at
Agustín
from
his
flat
little
eyes
.
The
pupils
were
even
smaller
now
.
He
licked
his
lips
then
,
put
up
an
arm
and
wiped
his
mouth
with
the
back
of
his
hand
,
looked
down
and
saw
the
blood
on
his
hand
.
He
ran
his
tongue
over
his
lips
,
then
spat
.
