“Gertrudis.  Rather pleasing, I think.”

Kirk thought so, too.  In fact, it pleased him so greatly that he thought of nothing else during the entire second act of “La Tosca.”  It was even sweeter than the music of her hesitating accent.

When, after an age, the curtain fell for a second time, he escaped from his companions, mumbling some excuse or other, and made haste to find her again.  But as he approached he felt a sudden pang of jealous rage.

Ramon Alfarez was beside her, and the two were chatting with an appearance of intimacy that made him furious.  Close at hand stood Garavel, deep in conversation with Colonel Jolson.

“Ah, Ramon, I wish you to meet Mr. Anthony,” said Gertrudis.  “So!  You have met before?”

“In Colon,” Kirk explained, while Alfarez scorched him with his eyes.  “Mr. Alfarez was very hospitable to me.”

“Yes,” the Spaniard exclaimed.  “It is my great regret that Senor Ant’ony did not remain for longer.”

“Ramon is with the President’s party this evening.  He is Senor Galleo’s Secretary, you know.”

“I informed you concerning those good fortunes some time since, eh?” Ramon’s insulting stare made Kirk long to take him by the throat.

“Yes, you told me.  I suppose it is a fine position.”

Alfarez swelled pompously.  “I ’ave many responsibilities.”

“It brings you very close to the Chief Executive, no doubt.”

“I ’ave indeed the honor to be his intimate!”

“He’s the tallest negro I ever saw,” Kirk said, simply, at which the haughty Ramon seemed about to explode, and Miss Garavel quite shamelessly giggled.

“That is funny,” she exclaimed.  “But you must not tease Ramon.  You understand, the voice of the people has made Galleo President, but no one forgets that he is not one of us.”

Her youthful countryman twisted his mustache with trembling fingers.

“It is politics!” he declared.  “And yet Galleo is a great man; I am honor’ to be his Secretary.  But by the grace of God our next President will be w’ite.”

“Ramon’s father, Don Anibal, you know.”  Gertrudis nodded wisely at the American.  “We are very proud of Ramon, he is so young to be high in politics.”

“Eh!  Yes, and many of our bravest patriots ’ave been black men.”

“Oh, we’ve had some brave negroes, too,” Kirk acknowledged.

“So!  You see!” Alfarez was triumphant.

“The greatest fighter we ever had was a colored chap.”

“Ah!”

“His name was Gans—­Joe Gans.”

“You are still joking,” said Miss Garavel.  “In Baltimore I read the newspapers about that Gans.  He was a-box-fighter, what?”

“Exactly.  But he never carried a Secretary.”

Alfarez’s countenance was sallow as he inquired: 

“Does Senor Ant’ony discover our climate to be still agreeable?”

“Very.  It hasn’t grown too warm for me yet.”