"Barriers have been leaped; gulfs spanned."
"None such as these!"
"Señorita, we each had four grandparents, they each had four. That is sixteen in the fourth generation back. How many in ten generations? Who can say he is of this blood or that?"
"I do not pretend to the skill to refute specious logic, and—here is the gate. My thanks to you."
"Señorita!" I protested.
"Adios, señor! Open your eyes to the barrier and the gulf."
"I see them, and they shall not stop me from crossing!" Again I encountered the inscrutable glance that opened to me the darkness in the fathomless depths of her eyes. "I swear it!" I vowed.
Still gazing full at me, she replied: "It may be that in the Spring we shall pass through New Orleans."
I would have protested—asked for a word more to add to this meagre information. But she turned in at the gate, and the Irishwoman was at my elbow.
"Till then, if not before, au revoir, señorita!" I called in parting.