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"
Primitivo
wanted
to
go
up
there
,
"
Robert
Jordan
said
.
"
Art
thou
crazy
?
"
Pilar
said
to
the
flat
-
faced
man
.
"
What
kind
of
locos
are
we
producing
here
?
"
"
I
wish
to
aid
them
.
"
"
Qué
va
,
"
Pilar
said
.
"
Another
romantic
.
Dost
thou
not
believe
thou
wilt
die
quick
enough
here
without
useless
voyages
?
"
Robert
Jordan
looked
at
her
,
at
the
heavy
brown
face
with
the
high
Indian
cheekbones
,
the
wide
-
set
dark
eyes
and
the
laughing
mouth
with
the
heavy
,
bitter
upper
lip
.
"
Thou
must
act
like
a
man
,
"
she
said
to
Primitivo
.
"
A
grown
man
.
You
with
your
gray
hairs
and
all
.
"
"
Don
’
t
joke
at
me
,
"
Primitivo
said
sullenly
.
"
If
a
man
has
a
little
heart
and
a
little
imagination
—
—
"
"
He
should
learn
to
control
them
,
"
Pilar
said
.
"
Thou
wilt
die
soon
enough
with
us
.
There
is
no
need
to
seek
that
with
strangers
.
As
for
thy
imagination
.
The
gypsy
has
enough
for
all
.
What
a
novel
he
told
me
.
"
"
If
thou
hadst
seen
it
thou
wouldst
not
call
it
a
novel
,
"
Primitivo
said
.
"
There
was
a
moment
of
great
gravity
.
"
