"You belong to the race that
doesn't quit--that somehow muddles through."
"If I but possessed blue eyes and flaxen hair--if I but possessed the
guerdon of a noble lady's love--I might not have disappointed you, Kay.
I might still have been a true knight and died sword in hand.
Unfortunately, however, I possess sufficient Latin blood to make me a
little bit lazy--to counsel quitting while the quitting is good."
"I'm terribly disappointed," she protested. "Terribly."
"So am I. I'm ashamed of myself, but--a contrite heart is not hockable
at the only pawnshop in El Toro. Buck up, Miss Parker!"
"You have called me Kay three times this afternoon, Miguel--"
He rode close to her, reached over and gently drew one little hand from
her crimson face. "You're a dear girl, Kay," he murmured, huskily.
"Please cease weeping. You haven't insulted me or even remotely hurt
my little feelings. God bless your sweet soul! If you'll only stop
crying, I'll give you Panchito. He's yours from this minute. Saddle
and bridle, too. Take him. Do what you please with him, but for
heaven's sake don't let your good mother think we've been
quarreling--and on the very second day of our acquaintance."
She dashed the tears away and beamed up at him. "You give Panchito to
me! You don't mean it!"
"I do. I told you I might give him away to somebody worth while."
"You haven't known me long enough to give me valuable presents,
Miguel," she demurred.
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