Unmindful of her interruption or the abject pain of remorse and disappointment that was gripping the heart of this girl whom he truly worshiped himself, Lefty rambled on: “There are a lot of men in this world who would be made the happiest creatures alive with the knowledge that you cared for them—good men, successful, honest and faithful, but if you searched far and wide, over the four corners of the earth, you would never find another Panama. He may seem relentless, rough and crude, insofar as speech and education goes, but underneath that hard exterior, built up as a protection against a laughing, unmerciful world, there is a softness, a beautiful, honest soul possessed with a tenderness and devotion to you!”
“Please, Lefty!” the unhappy, disillusioned woman begged, “you mustn’t——”
“There is only one fault he possesses,” the boy continued, deaf to her protestations, “his heart is filled with such a great love for you that he is limited for the want of proper expression. I know that he has tried to tell you time and time again but each——”
“Please, don’t!” she interrupted beseechingly, suddenly gripped with a pressing desire to run away from it all as she took a few steps backward.
“Don’t you understand, Elinor? He’s crazy about you! He worships you. Never, since the day his eyes first rested upon you, has he even as much as looked at another woman. Last night, when you kissed him—kissed him for saving me from prison or God knows what else—he went wild with joy! All night long while he flew over the jungles, imperiling his life, his task was made lighter because he believed you cared!”
Elinor stood numb with obfuscation, her face a lifeless, enigmatic blank as her eyes filled with large tears that trickled down her pallid cheeks. Lefty lifted her chin so that their eyes met, then he grasped her by the shoulders, shaking her gently to make her understand, but all that he did was to bring to the girl the horrible realization of the tremendous sacrifice he was making for his friend’s happiness.
As he gazed into her tear-filled, pleading eyes, he was afraid to trust himself, and struggled to bring Panama back as the chief topic of conversation, increasing his fervent ardor with the escape of each word from his lips.
“Don’t you understand, dear? He loves you! That’s why I am here to speak for him because he can’t! He worships the very ground you walk upon, lives only for the realization of his dream to marry you. Will you——”
“Please, Lefty—don’t say it!” she cried in a voice gripped with terror.
“I’ve got to, dear,” the boy persisted in a blind, resolute manner. “He’s over there now, waiting for your answer. He’s waiting for me to come and tell him that you will be his wife!”