He shook his head and smiled again.
"I'd say yes, if it wasn't that I'd picked this hombre out of th' ditch an' brought him here an' played doctor to-night. You never can tell what you'll believe until the time comes when you've got to believe something."
A silent interval, which the woman broke.
"Is there anything else I can do for you now?"
He knew that she wanted to go, yet some quality about her made him suspect that she wanted to stay on, too.
"No, Miss, nothin' ..." he answered. "I've got to go tend to my horse. He's such a baby that he won't leave his tracks for anybody so long's he knows I'm here, so I can't send anybody else to look after him. But you've done enough. I'll wait a while till somebody else comes along to watch—"
"No, no! let me stay here ... with him."
"But—"
"I came here to help you. Won't you let me go through with it?"
He thought again that it was her pride forcing her on; he could not know that the prompting in her was something far deeper, something tragic. He said: