Vizcarra, to make his request look natural, forced down several gulps of the fluid, and then, throwing away the rest, held out the gourd. The girl stretched forth her hand to receive it, but he still held it fast, gazing intently and rudely upon her.
“Lovely señorita,” he said, “may I not kiss that pretty hand that has been so kind to me?”
“Sir! please return me the cup.”
“Nay, not till I have paid for my drink. You will accept this?”
He dropped a gold onza into the gourd.
“No, Señor, I cannot accept payment for what is only an act of duty. I shall not take your gold,” she added, firmly.
“Lovely Rosita! you have already taken my heart, why not this?”
“I do not understand you, Señor; please put back your money, and let me have the cup.”
“I shall not deliver it up, unless you take it with its contents.”
“Then you must keep it, Señor,” replied she, turning away. “I must to my work.”