"I know that; but it is not that I am thinking of. Suppose some one sees you; thou knowest the inflexibility of our conventions."
"You forget that we are comadre and compadre. Our privileges are many." He abruptly dismissed the intimate "thou," with his usual American perversity.
"True; I had forgotten. But whither is all this tending, Diego? She neither will nor can marry you."
"She both can and will. Will you help me, or not? Because if not I shall proceed without you. Only you can make it easier."
I always gave way to him; everybody did.
He was as good as his word. How he managed, Chonita never knew, but not a half-hour after dinner she found herself alone in the canon with him, seated among the huge stones cataclysms had hurled there.
"Why have you brought me here?" she asked.
"To talk with you."
"But this would be severely censured."
"Do you care?"