Behind the vines a girl's voice, speaking rapidly and softly with a laugh running all through the tones, hushed as suddenly as does a wild bird's twitter when strange steps approach.

And just as suddenly did Dade's nostrils flare with the quick breath he drew; for tones, if one listens understandingly, may tell a great deal.

Even Jack knew instinctively that a young man sat with the girl behind the vines.
After the hush they heard the faint swish of feminine movement.

She came and stood demurely at the top of the wide steps, a little hoop overflowing soft, white embroidered stuff in her hands.
"Welcome home, Senor Hunter," she said, and made him a courtesy that was one-third politeness and the rest pure mockery.

"My father will be relieved in his mind when he sees you.