Chapter 17

           Theonlynoiseinthecavenowwasthehissingfromthehearthwheresnowwasfallingthroughtheholeintheroofontothecoalsofthefire.

           "Pilar,"Fernandosaid."Istheremoreofthestew?"

           "Oh,shutup,"thewomansaid.ButMariatookFernando’sbowlovertothebigpotsetbackfromtheedgeofthefireandladledintoit.ShebroughtitovertothetableandsetitdownandthenpattedFernandoontheshoulderashebenttoeat.Shestoodforamomentbesidehim,herhandonhisshoulder.ButFernandodidnotlookup.Hewasdevotinghimselftothestew.

           Agustínstoodbesidethefire.Theotherswereseated.PilarsatatthetableoppositeRobertJordan.

           "Now,Inglés,"shesaid,"youhaveseenhowheis."

           "Whatwillhedo?"RobertJordanasked.

           "Anything,"thewomanlookeddownatthetable."Anything.Heiscapableofdoinganything."

           "Whereistheautomaticrifle?"RobertJordanasked.

           "Thereinthecornerwrappedintheblanket,"Primitivosaid."Doyouwantit?"

           "Later,"RobertJordansaid."Iwishedtoknowwhereitis."

           "Itisthere,"Primitivosaid."IbroughtitinandIhavewrappeditinmyblankettokeeptheactiondry.Thepansareinthatsack."

           "Hewouldnotdothat,"Pilarsaid."Hewouldnotdoanythingwiththemáquina."

           "Ithoughtyousaidhewoulddoanything."

           "Hemight,"shesaid."Buthehasnopracticewiththemáquina.Hecouldtossinabomb.Thatismorehisstyle."

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