"I don't need to be fanned, thank you very much. You are much more heated than I...."
"Why do you address me so formally?[2] Is that the way we ought to do?"
"Well, then, thou art more heated than I.... Fan thyself."
At ten o'clock all departed, taking leave of the lovers, with smiles more or less malicious.
"Good night, Maximina; sleep well."—"Your last night of maidenhood, dear! Beware! Your last night!" said one ancient matron, the mother of at least eleven sons.
Maximina smiled, abashed.
"Adiós! adiós!... How it will pain us to have you leave us!"
And a few of the young maidens kissed her again and again, with great manifestations of love.
"Girl, don't you forget that this is your last night of maidenhood! Ponder on it! It is a solemn thing!" said the matron once more.
Again Maximina smiled.