* My “lover,” or rather my “fancy.”
“‘What does he say?’ inquired the Englishman.
“‘He says he’s thirsty, and would like a drink,’ answered Carmen, and she threw herself back upon a sofa, screaming with laughter at her own translation.
“When that girl begins to laugh, sir, it was hopeless for anybody to try and talk sense. Everybody laughed with her. The big Englishman began to laugh too, like the idiot he was, and ordered the servant to bring me something to drink.
“While I was drinking she said to me:
“‘Do you see that ring he has on his finger? If you like I’ll give it to you.’
“And I answered:
“‘I would give one of my fingers to have your milord out on the mountains, and each of us with a maquila in his fist.’
“‘Maquila, what does that mean?’ asked the Englishman.
“‘Maquila,’ said Carmen, still laughing, ‘means an orange. Isn’t it a queer word for an orange? He says he’d like you to eat maquila.’