Maybe we're all that way, the boy mused. Even me - I haven't thought of other women since i met the merchant's daughter. Looking at the sun, he calculated that he would reach Tarifa before midday. There, he could exchange his book for a thicker one, fil his wine bottle shave, and have a haircut, he had to prepare himself for his meeting with the girls, and he didn't want to think about the possibility that some other shepherd, with a larger flock of sheep, had arrived there before him and asked her hand. It's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting, he thought, as he looked again at the position of the sun, and hurried his pace, He had suddenly remembered that in Tarifa, there was an old woman who interpreted dreams. The old woman led the boy to a room at the back of her house; it was separated from her living room by a curtain of colored bead, The room's furnishings consisted of a table, an image of the Sacred of Jesus, and two chairs. The woman sat down , and told him to be seated as well, Then she took both of his hands in hers, and began quietly to pray. It sounded like a Gypsy prayer. The boy had already had experience on the road with Gypsies they also traveled, but they had no flocks of sheep. It was also said that they had a pack with the devil, and that they kidnapped children and taking them away to their mysterious camps, made them their slaves. As a child, the boy had always been frightened to death that he would be captured by Gypsies and this childhood hear returned when the old woman took his hands in hers.