It was Stutter who finally found voice, his mind drifting back to what she had lately said in carelessness.
"Y-yer said that the p-p-pony never l-lied like a man," he began doubtfully.

"Yer d-did n't mean that f-fer me, did yer ?" There was something so deeply pathetic about the tone in which he asked this as to hurt her, and the slender fingers still clasping his sleeve suddenly closed more tightly.
"Senor, you mus' not say dat; you mus' not tink dat.

No, no! I speak that only in fun, senor--nevah I believe dat, nevah.

You good man, more good as Mercedes; she not vort' von leetle bit de lofe you say to her, but she feel mooch shame to have you tink dat she mean you ven she speak such ting in fun." He halted suddenly, all remembrance of their surroundings, their possible peril, as instantly erased from his mind.

He merely saw that girl face upturned to his in the starlight, so fair and pleading, he merely heard that soft voice urging her unworthiness, her sorrow.