"Forgive me. I did not mean romantic in that sense."
"Lady, what did you mean?"
"May I say picturesque?"
He spat. "Thank Gawd I ain't that, either. I'd shoot myself if I thought I was showing off, or dressing operatic, or playing at bein' more than I am."
Seeing him really hurt, I made one last wriggle.
"May I say what I mean by romance?"
He held the stirrup for me to mount, offered his hand.
"Do you never get hungry," I asked, "for what's beyond the horizon?"
He sighed with sheer relief, then turned, his eyes seeing infinite distances. "Why, yes! That country beyond the sky-line's always calling. Thar's something I want away off, and I don't know what I want."
"That land beyond the sky-line's called romance."