Is he a--a--a gentleman, now, do you think?"

"Well, those things are so different in Spain that it's almost
impossible to make an Englishman understand them. One learns to know
all this sort of people by being with them in the country, but one
can't explain."

"No; exactly. Are they real gold?"

"Yes, yes; I dare say they are. They sometimes have them silver
gilt."

"It is quite a common thing, then, isn't it?" asked I.

"Well, not exactly; that--Ah! yes; I see! of course. He is a
torero."

"A what?"

"A mayo. I will explain it all to you. You will see them about in
all places, and you will get used to them."

"But I haven't seen one other as yet."

"No, and they are not all so gay as this, nor so new in their finery,
you know."

"And what is a torero?"

"Well, a torero is a man engaged in bull-fighting."