The women that he had known had been those of the plains-town--the unfortunates who through circumstances or inclination had been drawn into the maelstrom of cow-country vice, and who, while they may have found flattery, were never objects of honest admiration or respect.
He had known this young woman only a few hours, and yet he knew that with her he could not adopt the easy, matter-of-fact intimacy that had answered with the other women he had known.

In fact, the desire to look upon her in this light never entered his mind.

Instead, he was filled with a deep admiration for her--an admiration in which there was a profound respect.
"I expect you must know your business, ma'am," he said, after watching her for a few minutes.

"An' I'm mighty glad that you do.

Most women would have been pretty nearly flustered over a snake bite." "Why," she returned, without looking up, but exhibiting a little embarrassment, which betrayed itself in a slight flush, "I really think that I was a little excited--especially when you came riding up to the porch." She thought of his words, when, looking at her accusingly, he had told her that she was "a hell of a snake," and the flush grew, suffusing her face.