But I know you, senor; you vant to stay here, an' have de fun.

You Americano an' like dat ver' mooch.

I feel of de big arm, so, an' I know eet ees bettah dat you be here.

I mooch like please you, senor." He clasped her hand where it rested small and white against his sleeve, hiding it completely within his own great fist; when he spoke she could mark the tremble in the deep voice.
"Y-you 're a m-mighty fine girl," he managed to say, simply, "but we g-got ter go now.

I-I reckon yer b-b-better walk fer a ways, as the p-pony will step lighter." "I not care, senor," softly.