The city of Granada, where the morning papers glowed with praise
so ardent that the print all but smoked with it. We were alone in the
corridor where we met, and our eyes confessed us kindred spirits, and I
hope he understood me better than if I had taken him in my arms and
kissed him on both cheeks.
I really had no time for that; I was on my way down-stairs to witness
the farewell scene between the leading lady and the large group of young
Granadans who had come up to see her off. When she came out to the
carriage with her husband, by a delicate refinement of homage they
cheered him, and left him to deliver their devotion to her, which she
acknowledged only with a smile. But not so the leading lady's
lady's-maid, when her turn came to bid good-by from our omnibus window
to the assembled upper servants of the hotel. She put her head out and
said in a voice hoarse with excitement and good-fellowship, _"Adios,
hombres!"_ ("Good-by, men!"), and vanished with us from their applausive
presence.
With us, I say, for we, too, were leaving Granada in rain which was snow
on the Sierra and so cold that we might well have seemed leaving
Greenland.
