The more she went on talking, the more excited she became, contradicting her own words, as her thoughts became more and more incoherent. Don Santos tried to make a remark, but she stopped him by putting her hand on his mouth.
"Let me talk, sir! I want to tell you all."
The Indian began to be anxious as the excitement of the girl went on increasing. She chattered away in a familiar, rude sort of way.
"Give me a cigar."
"Fernanda! A cigar! You will be ill."
"Silence! what are you saying fool? I sick! You are trying to annoy me! Give me a cigar or I will leave you here."
The Indian took out his case, and the pretty heiress took one, bit off the top with her sharp teeth, and asked for a match. Garnet gave her a lighted one, at the same time shaking his head in disapproval. When she had taken two or three whiffs, she made a gesture of disgust and exclaimed:
"What infamous cigars! Look, smoke it yourself."
And she put it in his mouth. There was no gesture of disgust with Garnet as he smoked it.
"I should think I will smoke it!" he said with a smile of beatitude. "They cost me two hundred dollars the thousand, but now you have tried one, they are worth a million."