Never could she appear more delicately attractive, more coquettishly charming.
"Ah, see--you tink me de prisoner.

Eet vas not all de strength, senor, not all.

You no can catch me again till I lofe you; not de once till I lofe you, senor." He started toward her blindly, taunted by these unexpected words of renunciation.

But she danced away, ever managing to keep well beyond reach, until she disappeared within the narrow path leading to the cabin.

He could see her through the vista of branches, pausing to look back and watch if he followed.
"B-but you do," he called out, "I-I know you d-do.