"I let the facts speak for me," he shrugged.
"Do they condemn him—absolutely? I think not."
She was a creature of impulse, too fine of spirit to be controlled by the caution of speech that convention demands. She would do justice to her foe, no matter how Manuel interpreted it.
What the young man did think was that she was the most adorable and desirable of earth's dwellers, the woman he must win at all hazards.
"He came here a spy, under a false name. Surely you do not forget that, Valencia," he said.
"I do not forget, either, that we flung his explanations in his face; refused him the common justice of a hearing. Had we given him a chance, all might have been well."
"My cousin is generous," Manuel smiled bitterly.
"I would be just."
"Be both, my beloved, to poor Manuel Pesquiera, an unhappy wreck on the ocean of love, seeking in vain for the harbor."
"There are many harbors, Manuel, for the brave sailor. If one is closed, another is open. He hoists sail, and beats across the main to another port."