She looked at me queerly.
“You mean that you intend to rescue me, whether I wish it or not?” she breathed.
“I mean that I wish you for the time being to forget you ever knew me, to forget that you hate me, and only consider that I am a gentleman desirous of assisting you. When you are safe from this peril, which I can’t for the life of me understand, then I will quickly sink once more into oblivion and trouble you no longer.”
“I—did not know the world was so small,” she said, musingly.
“Nor I. Until I saw you here I thought you in the gay whirl of Paris or at least in New York.”
“And I thought you—but it doesn’t matter; nothing matters any longer. Do you really mean to say you won’t let me change my mind?”
“Pardon me, not in this case, because I am sure you don’t mean it, and only do so through pique.”
“Oh, this is very romantic,” she laughed in a sarcastic way; “a pretty woman rescued even against her will. How finely it would read.”
“I am done with romance, madam.”
“Indeed? That is news to me. But what if I choose to call out and bring the alcalde and his people to prevent your carrying me off?”