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"
Maria
.
And
thee
?
"
"
Roberto
.
Have
you
been
long
in
the
mountains
?
"
"
Three
months
.
"
"
Three
months
?
"
He
looked
at
her
hair
,
that
was
as
thick
and
short
and
rippling
when
she
passed
her
hand
over
it
,
now
in
embarrassment
,
as
a
grain
field
in
the
wind
on
a
hillside
.
"
It
was
shaved
,
"
she
said
.
"
They
shaved
it
regularly
in
the
prison
at
Valladolid
.
It
has
taken
three
months
to
grow
to
this
.
I
was
on
the
train
.
They
were
taking
me
to
the
south
.
Many
of
the
prisoners
were
caught
after
the
train
was
blown
up
but
I
was
not
.
I
came
with
these
.
"
"
I
found
her
hidden
in
the
rocks
,
"
the
gypsy
said
.
"
It
was
when
we
were
leaving
.
Man
,
but
this
one
was
ugly
.
We
took
her
along
but
many
times
I
thought
we
would
have
to
leave
her
.
"
"
And
the
other
one
who
was
with
them
at
the
train
?
"
asked
Maria
.
"
The
other
blond
one
.
The
foreigner
.
Where
is
he
?
"
"
Dead
,
"
Robert
Jordan
said
.
"
In
April
.
"
"
In
April
?
The
train
was
in
April
.
"
"
Yes
,
"
Robert
Jordan
said
.
"
He
died
ten
days
after
the
train
.
"
"
Poor
man
,
"
she
said
.
"
He
was
very
brave
.
And
you
do
that
same
business
?
"
