She smiled broadly at him. She was glad to see him. “I am in jail,” she spoke through the bars of her cell.

Isabella Muerta He looked up at Arvel. “Where else in the civilized world would you find such characters, eh, Mr. Walsh?” He stopped grinning when he saw Arvel’s face. He’d lost color and looked as if he had just learned of the death of a loved one.
 Arvel looked blankly at the salesmen. “I am sorry, Mr. Chaney, but I have business to attend to. He absent-mindedly took Chaney’s paper, folded it up and tucked it under his arm. He quickly walked out of the hotel’s dining room. He was tempted to gather up every copy of the paper he could find, and burn them.
“Pendejo! Wha’ are you doing here?” She smiled broadly at him. She was glad to see him. “I am in jail,” she spoke through the bars of her cell. She had been confined alone, as she had been ‘fomenting a riot’ according to the jailer.
“I see you are in jail, Chica.”
“Oh, Pendejo, I got too much whisky the other night.” Image Source ~ Black Market Art Company
 The Mule Tamer