"He made that sound terribly sincere, didn't he ?" she commented.
"It takes a Mexican to lift flattery up among the fine arts." Then she thought no more about it.
Annie-Many-Ponies was sitting apart, on a rock where her gay blanket made a picturesque splotch of color against the gray barrenness of the hill behind her.

She, too, heard what Ramon said, and she, too, thought that he had made the praise sound terribly sincere.

He had not spoken to her at all after the first careless nod of recognition when he rode up.

And although her reason had approved of his caution, her sore heart ached for a little kindness from him.

She turned her eyes toward him now with a certain wistfulness; but though Ramon chanced to be looking toward her she got no answering light in his eyes, no careful little signal that his heart was yearning for her.