"I--I haven't talked to a white girl in a year," he said. "This is our
slack season--so I--I came to see you."

If Colina had been a man this was very like what she might have
said---to meet with candor equal to her own in the other sex, however,
took all the wind out of her sails.

"How dare you!" she murmured, conscious of sounding ridiculous.

Ambrose cast down his eyes. "I have not said anything insulting," he
said doggedly. "After what Poly said it was natural for me to want to
come and see you."

"In the slack season," she murmured sarcastically.

"I couldn't have come in the winter," he said naïvely.

Colina despised herself for disputing with him. She knew she ought to
have left at once--but she was unable to think of a sufficiently
telling remark to cover a dignified retreat.

"You are presumptuous!" she said haughtily.

"Presumptuous?" he repeated with a puzzled air.

She decided that he was more simple than bold. "I mean that men do not
say such things to women," she began as one might rebuke a little
boy--but the conclusion was lamentable, "to women to whom they have not
even been introduced!"