Maybe much troubles
come. Maybe much happy--I dunno. Lots time I see plenty trouble come for girl
that say them words for man. Some time plenty happy--I think trouble comes
most many times. I think Wagalexa Conka he be awful mad. I not like for hims
be mad."
"Now you make ME mad--Ramon what loves yoh! Yoh like for Ramon be mad,
perhaps? Always yoh 'fraid Luck Lindsay this, 'fraid Luck that other. Me, I
gets damn' sick hear that talk all time. Bimeby he marree som' girl, then
what for you? He don' maree yoh, eh? He don' lov' yoh; he think too good for
maree Indian girl. Me, I not think like that. I, Ramon Chavez, I think proud
to lov, yoh. Ramon--"
"I not think Wagalexa Conka marry me." The girl was turning stubborn under his
importunities. "Wagalexa Conka my brother--my friend. I tell you plenty time.
Now I tell no more."
"Ramon loves yoh so moch," he pleaded, and smiled to himself when he saw her
turn toward toward him again. The love-talk--that was what a woman likes best
to hear! "Yoh say yoh lov' Ramon jus' little bit!"
"I not say now. When I say I be sure I say truth."
"All right, then I be sad till yoh lov' me. Yoh maybe be happy, yoh know
Ramon's got heavy heart for yoh.
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