“Yes. The rest I cannot understand. I—I stifle among them!”
“You ain’t stringin’ me along?”
“What other men say are merely words. But such a man as you are, speaks from the heart. I know! I could believe you!”
“Miss Silvestre—”
“Isn’t it usual in the West to be called by first names?”
There was a sound of choking. Her wide, wondering eyes raised to his.
“Or is it wrong, Mr. Gordon? To be called by one’s given name seems to me—freedom!”
“My name’s Maurie.”
The hoarseness of his voice was the music of the spheres.
“And mine is Jacqueline.”