"You look tired, señorita," he remarked.
"I am very tired of Rio Frio. Have you come to tell me that I can go away?"
"That you should be eager to do so grieves me, but I can, perhaps, make it possible. There is a proposal I wish to make."
"Yes?" Evelyn answered as carelessly as she could.
"You may find what I propose surprising; but I must beg you to think over it and you will see that it is not so strange as it seems. I have the honor to ask you to be my wife."
Evelyn shrank back in horror, as if he had struck her, and then with an effort recovered her self-control.
"This is impossible, señor; indeed, it is absurd."
"Your pardon," he said with ominous grimness; "I cannot agree. It is, I think, the best way out of an embarrassing situation, but this is an argument I do not wish to use. I would rather speak of the charm you exercise and my respectful admiration."
"We can leave that out. I do not value nor desire it."
The man's dark eyes flashed, and Evelyn knew the danger of rousing him. His Spanish polish was only skin-deep, and the savage lurked beneath. For all that, she was desperate and meant to force the conflict.