Upon meeting with an old traveling companion, she always recognized his face immediately, no matter how short a time she had seen him, and oftentimes she could even recall his name.

This last was what she had been puzzling over, wrinkling her brows with the mental effort.
"You are a captain ?...

Your name is ?..." And she smiled suddenly as her doubts came to an end.
"Your name is," she said positively, "Captain Ulysses Ferragut." In long and agreeable silence she relished the sailor's astonishment.
Then, as though she pitied his stupefaction, she made further explanations.

She had made a trip from Buenos Ayres to Barcelona in a steamship which he had commanded.
"That was six years ago," she added.

"No; seven years ago." Ferragut, who had been the first to suspect a former acquaintance, could not recall this woman's name and place among the innumerable passengers that filled his memory.