Her small, straight waist and flat back brought into greater relief the corsetless, waistless, swaying figures of the Mexican girls, and her long, slim, well-booted feet, peeping from the stiff, white edges of her short skirt, made their broad, low-quartered slippers, held on by the big toe, appear more preposterous than ever.  Suddenly she seemed to realize that she was standing there alone, but without fear or embarrassment.  She drew back a little, glancing carelessly behind her as if missing some previous companion, and then her eyes fell upon mine.  She smiled an easy recognition; then a moment later, her glance rested more curiously upon Enriquez, who was still by my side.  I disengaged myself and instantly joined her, particularly as I noticed that a few of the other bystanders were beginning to stare at her with little reserve.

“Isn’t it the most extraordinary thing you ever saw?” she said quietly.  Then, presently noticing the look of embarrassment on my face, she went on, more by way of conversation than of explanation: 

“I just left uncle making a call on a parishioner next door, and was going home with Jocasta (a peon servant of her uncle’s), when I heard the music, and dropped in.  I don’t know what has become of her,” she added, glancing round the room again; “she seemed perfectly wild when she saw that creature over there bounding about with his handkerchiefs.  You were speaking to him just now.  Do tell me—­is he real?”

“I should think there was little doubt of that,” I said with a vague laugh.

“You know what I mean,” she said simply.  “Is he quite sane?  Does he do that because he likes it, or is he paid for it?”

This was too much.  I pointed out somewhat hurriedly that he was a scion of one of the oldest Castilian families, that the performance was a national gypsy dance which he had joined in as a patriot and a patron, and that he was my dearest friend.  At the same time I was conscious that I wished she hadn’t seen his last performance.

“You don’t mean to say that all that he did was in the dance?” she said.  “I don’t believe it.  It was only like him.”  As I hesitated over this palpable truth, she went on:  “I do wish he’d do it again.  Don’t you think you could make him?”

“Perhaps he might if you asked him,” I said a little maliciously.

“Of course I shouldn’t do that,” she returned quietly.  “All the same, I do believe he is really going to do it—­or something else.  Do look!”

I looked, and to my horror saw that Enriquez, possibly incited by the delicate gold eyeglasses of Miss Mannersley, had divested himself of his coat, and was winding the four handkerchiefs, tied together, picturesquely around his waist, preparatory to some new performance.  I tried furtively to give him a warning look, but in vain.

“Isn’t he really too absurd for anything?” said Miss Mannersley, yet with a certain comfortable anticipation in her voice.  “You know, I never saw anything like this before.  I wouldn’t have believed such a creature could have existed.”