I was patting the dog.
"That dog," said the little Señor, "is a very valuable dog. It is unique in the province and possibly is unique in the south of Spain. It has a romantic history. It is bred by the monks in high Switzerland, and when the snow is deep on the mountains it goes out to hunt for lost travellers. It is the only specimen of a San Bernar' in the south of Spain."
We looked at the setter; and drank some more beer.
"That bull," went on the Señor, pointing to the picture, "was painted by one of the best bull painters in Spain."
We looked at the picture and again took refuge in beer. Luis, who did not know about setters, but did know about pictures, drank in sympathy.
The Señor wound up his gramophone.
"Do you know 'Frou-Frou'?" he inquired.
"'Frou-Frou'?" we said.
"Yes, the French Comic Opera."