"Oh! I think you must please him," said Clara, forgetting how Muñoz had driven out his daughter for marrying an American. "He can't help but like you."
"God bless you, my darling!" whispered Thurstane, worshipping her for worshipping him.
After a while Clara thought of Texas Smith, and shuddered out, "But oh, how many dangers! Oh, my friend, how will you be safe?"
"Leave that to me," he replied, comprehending her at once. "I will take care of that man."
"Do be prudent."
"I will. For your sake, my dear child, I promise it. Well, now we must part. I must rouse no suspicions."
"Yes. We must be prudent."
He was about to leave her when a new and terrible thought struck him, and made him look at her as though they were about to part forever.
"If Muñoz leaves you his fortune," he said firmly, "you shall be free."
She stared; after a moment she burst into a little laugh; then she shook her finger in his face and said, blushing, "Yes, free to be—your wife."