"So you are in love with her, Gil?" Manvers asked him. Gil admitted it.
"I love 'er the minute I see 'er at the corrida. My 'earta go alla water—but I know 'er. I say to myself, "That is la Manuela of my master Don Osmondo. You be careful, Gil Perez.'"
Manvers said, "Look here, Gil, I'm ashamed of myself. I kissed her, you know."
"Yessir," said Gil, and touched his forehead like a groom.
"If I had known that you—but I had no idea of it until this moment. I can only say——"
"Master," said Gil, "saya nothing at all. I love Manuela lika mad—that quite true; but she thinka me dirt on the pavement."
"Then she's very wrong," Manvers said.
"No, sir," said Gil, "thata true. All beautiful girls lika that. I understanda too much. But look 'ere—if she belong to me, that all the same, because I belong to you. You do what you like with 'er. I say, That all the same to me!"
"Gil Perez," said Manvers, "you're a gentleman, and I'm very much ashamed of myself. But we must do what we can for Manuela. I shall give evidence, of course. I think I can make the judge understand."
Gil was inordinately grateful, but could not conceal his nervousness. "I think the Juez, 'e too much friend with Don Luis. I think 'e know what to do all the time before. Manuela have too mucha trouble. Alla same she ver' fine girl, most beautiful, most unhappy. That do 'er good if she cry."