"Esa te quiere bien que te hace llorar," he said: "She loves thee well, that makes thee weep."
"I weep not," said Gil Perez; "it is she that weeps. As for me, I praise God."
"Aha, Gil Perez," Tormillo began—then he chuckled. "For you, my friend, there's still sunlight on the wall."
Gil nodded. "I believe it." Then he looked fiercely at the other man. "Go you with God, Tormillo, and leave me with her."
Tormillo stared, spat on the ground. "No need of your 'chuck chuck' to an old dog. I go, Gil Perez. Adios, hermano."
Gil Perez sat on the stone seat, and drew Manuela's head to his shoulder. She suffered him.
