“Qué disparate! [What nonsense!] You shall teach me English, and I will teach you Spanish.”
“Bueno! Yet what is the reason of your desire to speak English?”
To this she made no answer. She cast her eyes down, and her face took a demure look.
“It is a rough language.”
“It is a noble language, señor,” said she, answering with her eyes cast down. Suddenly she looked up: the leap of her glance was like the light of a flash of fire upon her face, so swift and cunning was she in the management of her eyelids. “Do you love music?”
“Yes.”
“I will sing to you when it is calm, and when you can hear my voice.”
I thanked her for this promise.
“Are we not alone? We will be company one to the other. I have the actress’s art, and can recite, and when you know some Spanish I will speak many beautiful and majestic lines to you. Have you playing-cards?”
“I fear not.”