disagreeable emotions. Like a refrain, dominating his impressions, through all that he observed, ran Marna Frost's stately explanation: All the old men do it: it's an old tribal custom.
With her red friends Marna Frost conversed fluently in Spanish, now and then interjecting a few words in their own familiar tongue. Rather it might be said that she addressed them, as it could not be said that they reciprocated to any great extent. For the most part they replied with little monosyllabic grunts. It was pretty and romantic, this relationship, and Ambrose felt that he too would like to play about a little with these gentle redskins. The fact that he could understand neither of their languages awarded them additional merit in his eyes. In this mood he was easily betrayed into expressing an unwonted degree of appreciation, avowing himself as a deathless admirer of Santo Domingo and describing the day, not untruthfully, as one of the high spots in a career which, until lately, had been singularly free of high spots.
It was obvious that Miss Frost regarded these naïve outbursts with approval, but she contented herself for the moment with adding extra prods to his imagination, stimulating him thereby to further feats of commendation.
