marriage license against her succumbing to his yellow charm.
The Esmeralda was an icicle to him. She returned his flowers, his jewelry, and his notes. She broke away from him in the middle of his passionate protestations. At restaurants she tried not to give him a glance; often she succeeded.
But there was no discouraging him; he was plainly under the deepest-rooted conviction that a woman must succumb to a series of attacks.
His perseverance was not without its effect. It compelled the Esmeralda to be always talking of him—to Pollyooly and to other admirers, who could not long remain ignorant of that yellow, passionate presence. But to the Honorable John Ruffin she said nothing about him save when his adoring presence at the same restaurant drew their talk to him. Then she made light of the matter, laughed at it. She was greatly afraid lest the Honorable John Ruffin should intervene; and she dreaded the Montevidean's dangerous temper. Then there came a lapse from her caution.
"It's really getting awful!" she cried to the Honorable John Ruffin, when her large round admirer
