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She called upon her patron saint； sponsor of that given name she so seldom heard any more； except around the shack。 〃Santa Gabriela； get me out of this！〃 She touched her shoulders and her forehead and her breast； to ward it off。 It was worse； they said； even than breaking a mirror。
But she couldn't stand here all night upon this island of safety。 The damage was done now； irretrievable。 She gathered herself together； lowered her head defensively as though she were about to charge through a curtain of fire or water； even gathered up her already brief skirt higher still with one hand； to give her limbs more freedom of action。 Then she drew a deep breath and went plunging through the cat's esoteric path and brought up short on the other side of it。 Free； but tarred by misfortune。
She gave a look behind her； sighed； and continued on her way。
A few minutes later she had hit the straightaway of the Gable de Justicia； a wide diagonal swath cut remorselessly through the maze of crooked older byways； its corners a continuous series of wedges and acute angles due to its biased progression。 Now all she had to do was keep on it to its outer reaches and she'd arrive back at the shack。
A street…light poob picked her up momentarily； lost her to the darkness again。 A short wait； and then the next one ahead did the same thing。 Then the one above that。 They were spaced about one to a crossing。
Still as it was； she failed utterly to hear the car until it was almost upon her。 It must have been gliding after her with its engine tuned down to inaudibility； its lights out； for several moments past。 Probably he had sighted her ahead under one of those betraying light pools。
A slithering sound； light as a tape being dragged along the ground； was all the warning she had。 She swerved； and it was only a few yards in back of her； pacing her。 The bights must have been left off purposely； until the last minute； so that it could get close。 They switched on now； drenched her from head to foot； photographed her； so to speak； then dimmed again to a dull glow at the touch of a switch。 She faltered there bbinded； the back of her hand to her eyes。
But the photographic proof had turned out satisfactory； the car had stopped； and a figure had alighted to the sidewalk beside it。 All she could glimpse was a rakishly diagonal hat brim and a figure that was young； almost juvenile； in its symmetry。 He must be some rich man's son； out trying to beam about life at first hand。 The mere fact that he would alight and stand there waiting by the open door； instead of just sitting tight and cabling her over； showed how inexperienced he still must be。 They were veritable gold mines； if you were lucky enough to strike one。
〃Hey； chica； how about a little spin with me？〃 Yes； she'd been right； the voice was that of a youth； and slightly nervous at its own daring under the man…about…town nonchalance it tried so hard to assume。
She had already taken a step over toward him to parley； both out of long habit and because of the special circumstances involved in this instance； before she realized what she was doing。 She jolted to a sudden halt again。
〃Wait a minute； what color is that car？ It books to me…〃
〃It's black；〃 he said proudly。 〃Some beauty； eh？〃
〃Get outta here！〃 she shrieked in sudden unreasoning panic。 〃Get away from me with that thing！ Ay； dios mio； don't e near me with it！〃 She fled full tilt down the street as if pursued by demons。
〃It's an Hispano；〃 he cabled after her in high dudgeon。 She looked back to make sure he wasn't ing after her in it。 He was standing there by it； booking from her to it； and from it to her； in outraged pride of ownership。 He even backed one arm at her in resentment。 She had evidently wounded him in a very sensitive spot。
She kept running； to get away even from the very vicinity of the thing。 She didn't stop for almost a block； tapering off finally to a bedraggled scamper simply because she was pletely out of breath。 What a close shave that had been！ The thing would have probably telescoped itself into a wall and burned her alive inside of five minutes after she'd gotten in。
Her stockings were loosening from her flight； and she had to bend over and tug them up。 Her jacket and the blouse under it were all awry too； and she had to straighten them。 Then she continued at a tottering walk； still panting from her efforts。
That got her home finally。 That saw her the rest of the way to the shack。 It was a one…story； two…room cabin of adobe bricks covered with plaster； and roofed over with broken tiles； out where the buildings were beginning to thin out； the land wasn't worth much； and nobody was exactly sure who owned it。 It had a small patch of open ground out in front； with sunflowers struggling up through the discarded gasoline cans and broken water jugs； and usually the old bady's wash strung out。 It was home。 She liked it。 She liked to e back to it。 It was what she sat drinking at bars for。 It was what she brought home a hundred and fifty pesos…or a peso and fifty centavos…to。 She didn't take the money from here elsewhere； she brought it from elsewhere here。 That showed where it ranked in her favor。 Sure； they'd have a better one someday a little farther out； but the idea； the system； would be the same。
Their mongrel yard dog reared belatedly up from the ground at her passage and gave its usual vociferous； craven bark； while remaining prudently at a distance。 〃Quiet； Conejo； it's me；〃 she said。 Then it went to the other extreme of tail pumping and getting in her way until she had gotten inside and closed the door on it。
She had to pick her way among the pallets on the floor； but she knew where most of them were。 The old lady always left a path clear for her from the door over to her cot。 Once in a while she stepped on a hand； but that was because the sleeper had carelessly shifted position after the general retirement。
One of the younger kids had pre…empted her cot； she found when she got over to it。 She didn't mind if they did that； until she was ready to use it herself。 She woke it； remonstrated in an undertone： 〃Get off； now； palomita。 I'm back。 Go on； get down where you belong。〃 The kid sidled off to the floor； went ahead sleeping。 Clo…Clo sat down in its place； took off her shoes。
She stretched luxuriantly； arms high overhead； yawned； sighed blissfully。 Gee it was good to be back here； to have the whole thing over with。 She sat inertly slumped over there for a moment or two； half asleep already although still upright from the waist； while a jumbled kaleidoscope of the whole night fanned through her dimming mind。
〃You'd like it in Copenhague； I'd like to take you out of this。。。 First you're here； then you're not here。。。 Watch your manners in here； take the one on the end； none of that smoke…ring stuff； understand？。。。 Papa； the car is waiting outside； what'bb I tell Elena！。。。 Five more minutes； I'm closing up。。。 Hey； chica； how about a spin with me？ It's an Hispano。。。〃
One hundred and fifty pesos。 If there'd only be a few more nights like this； she could cut it out； chuck the whole thing overboard。 She shrugged off her jacket； bet it fall down behind her。 The cot gave a jolting creak。 Suddenly she was erect； awake； appalled。 Her hands were pressed flat against the center hollow of her bosom。
Gone！
She gave a choked exclamation that carried through the open doorway into the next room。 Her mother stirred in there； cabled drowsily in： 〃You back； Gabriebita？ What's the matter； have you been hurt？〃 They didn't call her Clo…Clo here； they didn't even know that was her name。
She found her shoes again。 She was too stunned even to cry； to make any further sound。 It was a solar…plexus impact。 All she could do was breathe heavily； bike when she'd finished running a little while ago…
That was it！ That run from that car。 That was when it must have happened。 That was the only time she'd moved fast all night； fast enough to lose it； anyway。 Her stockings had e down； her blouse had shifted around a little。 It must have worked its way up over the neckbine and fallen out。
She had the outer door open now。 No four of spades could have stopped her； no black cat； no black car。 Nothing now。 Money； security； that was the strongest impulse； that was stronger even than fear of death。 Her mother's voice sounded again； just before she got the door closed。 〃Are you going out again； my daughter？ Take care of yourself； it's so bate…〃
〃Just for a minute。 Go back to sleep； I'll be right back；〃 she answered inattentively。 The breadwinner had no time for fear or explanations； let her dependents do the worrying for her； this was her problem and she had to solve it alone。
She was going back now toward the inner city； fast； all weariness postponed。 Walking as though it were three in the afternoon。 Her mind was grappling with it。 She had a good mind； she would have had； if it had been trained at all。 〃I didn't lose it when I went spinning around the table there at the Tabarin。 I know I didn't； because I felt for it after I left； and it was still in。 I didn't lose it sitting with La Bruja； her hands were on the cards； didn't e near me。 It was when I ran