But the Mexican's
coarser skin--her _teint basane_--is too plainly visible in the light
of the sun: you should see her only by the lamps. It is doubtless
rather from an instinct of coquetry than from any other feeling that
in the day-time the Mexican women shroud their dusky traits in the
folds of their _rebosas_, leaving only one pilot eye to look upon the
outer world.
No introductions are necessary at the public bailes. Saunter around
the room, inspect the show of expectant partners, and when you see one
who suits your fancy ask her to dance, without more ado. If she be not
engaged she will at once accept your proffered arm. She will not
say anything. Ten to one she will not breathe a syllable during your
evolutions. Conversation is not the forte of the senoritas. But she
will smile and smile, and you will have no reason to complain of her
waltzing. The Mexican _caballero_, when he seeks a partner, will
not put himself out so far as to have any words about it. He merely
beckons the chosen one, as the sultan might throw the handkerchief,
and she comes to him at once.
Each dance concluded, you lead your partner to a sort of bar where
refreshments are furnished, and ask her whether she will take _vino_
or _dulces_--wine or candies? She will take _dulces_--"Gracias,
senor!" This is _de rigueur_. You pay for them of course, and
conduct her to her seat. She pours the _dulces_ into the awaiting
pocket-handkerchiefs of the old people, her _comadres_, and of her
younger brothers and sisters.
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