"Am I really the woman for you?" asked Rita, full of excited hopes, and still continuing to misinterpret his words.
"The very one!" said Russell. "The one of all others! Heaven has sent you to me. Rita, my dear, do what I ask!"
Rita was deeply moved. This brilliant, wealthy stranger seemed to love her. He wanted her to fly with him. But, oh, if he should prove false!
"Ah, señor, you not earnest—you not true!" said Rita, clasping his hand in both of hers.
"True! earnest!" cried Russell. "I swear, Rita, my dear, I will be true to what I say—always, always! Can't you trust me, Rita, my dear?"
"Oh, señor," sighed Rita, deeply moved, "you persuade me too easy. And think on the danger—the life is risk—the death will come if we are captura."
"Rita, my dear," said Russell, "let us not talk of danger. Let us fly together. I will always remember your devotion. I will never forget you as long as life lasts. I am noted for my truth and fidelity. I've got a warm and throbbing heart. And now, Rita, my dear, if you want one who will always be yours truly—if you want one who will love you and care for you—why, I'm your man!"
Upon these words Rita put, as usual, her own interpretation. The last words especially—"I'm your man"—seemed to her to be the most direct offer yet.
"My man?" she said—"and will you be my man, señor?"
"Of course—of course," said Russell, not comprehending her drift.