"It may be it is nothing," she paused, then went on.
"I put great illusion in the Republic.
I believe firmly in the Republic and I have faith.
I believe in it with fervor as those who have religious faith believe in the mysteries."
"I believe you."
"And you have this same faith?"
"In the Republic?"
"Yes."
"Yes," he said, hoping it was true.
"I am happy," the woman said.
"And you have no fear?"
"Not to die," he said truly.
"But other fears?"
"Only of not doing my duty as I should."
"Not of capture, as the other had?"
"No," he said truly.
"Fearing that, one would be so preoccupied as to be useless."
"You are a very cold boy."
"No," he said.
"I do not think so."
"No.
In the head you are very cold."
"It is that I am very preoccupied with my work."
"But you do not like the things of life?"
"Yes.
Very much.
But not to interfere with my work."
"You like to drink, I know.
I have seen."
"Yes.
Very much.
But not to interfere with my work."
"And women?"
"I like them very much, but I have not given them much importance."
"You do not care for them?"
"Yes.
But I have not found one that moved me as they say they should move you."
"I think you lie."
"Maybe a little."
"But you care for Maria."
"Yes.
Suddenly and very much."
"I, too.
I care for her very much.
Yes.
Much."
"I, too," said Robert Jordan, and could feel his voice thickening.
"I, too.
Yes."
It gave him pleasure to say it and he said it quite formally in Spanish. "I care for her very much."