"I want to go on record as saying that Manuel Pesquiera is the gamest man I know. That isn't all. He's a thoroughbred on top of it. If I live to be a hundred I'll never be as fine a fellow. My hat's off to him."
There was a mist in her soft eyes as she poured a glass of ice water for him. "I'm so glad to hear you say that. He is such a splendid fellow."
He observed she was no longer wearing the solitaire and thought it might be to spare his feelings. So he took the subject as a hunter does a fence.
"I wish you all the joy in the world, Miss Valdés. I know you're going to be very happy. I've got my wedding present all picked out for you," he said audaciously.
She was busy tidying up his dresser, but he could see the color flame into her cheeks.
"You have a very vivid imagination, Mr. Gordon."
"Not necessary in this case," he assured her.
"You're quite sure of that, I suppose," she suggested with a touch of ironic mockery.
"I haven't read any announcement in the paper," he admitted.
"It is always safe to wait for that."