"I never saw anything to equal that Mæstro's play in my life," said one of the young officers. "It was cool daring in the superlative degree."
"I fancy," said Austin, "you want us to make excuses for your being there."
Jacinta laughed. "Not exactly! I am rather proud of being a law to myself—and others—you know. Now, I really think that the qualities the Mæstro possessed appealed to me, though I naturally mean some and not all of them. I am, after all, as I admitted, a little primitive in some respects."
"You mean that you like a man to be daring?" asked the other officer.
"Of course!" and once more it was Austin Jacinta looked at. "Still, I don't necessarily mean that everybody should go bull-fighting. There are other things more worth while."
"Even than sailing round the Canaries and painting little pictures?" said Austin.
Jacinta glanced at him with a curious smile. "Well," she said, "since you ask me, I almost think there are." Then she stopped a moment, and stood looking out from among the oleanders towards the glittering heave of the Atlantic across the white-walled town. Once more a faint gleam crept into her eyes.
"I wonder," she added, "what Jefferson is doing—out yonder in Africa."