"Oh, thou wise one! What trouble can a piece of paper make when it lies on a man's heart?"
"It can crackle when another head lies on it."
"No head will ever lie here but—"
"Mine?"
"Eulogia!"
"To thee, Señorita Doña Eulogia," cried a deep voice. "May the jewels in thine eyes shine by the stars when thou art above them. May the tears never dim them while they shine for us below," and a caballero pushed back his chair, leaned forward, and touched her glass with his, then went down on one knee and drank the red wine.
Eulogia threw him a little absent smile, sipped her wine, and went on talking to Ignestria in her soft monotonous voice.
"My friend—Graciosa La Cruz—went a few weeks ago to Monterey for a visit. You will tell her I think of her, no?"
"I will dance with her often because she is your friend—until I return to San Luis Obispo."
"Will that be soon, señor?"