"Senor, if a-was one man whath lo-va you' thaughter, all is possiblee to
lo-va."

Pauline, nervously braiding some bits of wire which she had
unconsciously taken from a shelf, glanced up--against her will,--into
the eyes of Galahad. They were looking so steadily down upon her that
with a great leap of the heart for joy she closed her own and half
turned away. But Mazaro had not ceased.

"All is possiblee to lo-va, Senor, you shouth-a let marry hore an' tak'n
'way frone d'these plaze, Senor."

"Manuel Mazaro," said M. D'Hemecourt, again rising, "you 'ave say
enough."

"No, no, Senor; no, no; I want tell-a you--is a-one man--_whath lo-va_
you' thaughter; an' I _knowce_ him!"

Was there no cause for quarrel, after all? Could it be that Mazaro was
about to speak for Galahad? The old man asked in his simplicity:

"Madjor Shaughnessy?"

Mazaro smiled mockingly.

"Mayor Shaughness'," he said; "oh, no; not Mayor Shaughness'!"

Pauline could stay no longer; escape she must, though it be in Manuel
Mazaro's very face. Turning again and looking up into Galahad's face in