He took it out of her hand, opened it with a kind of professional carelessness, barely glanced at the signature and seals, and returned it.
"The signatures are genuine," he said, with business-like brevity; then he added, as if in explanation of that brevity, "I have seen it before."
Donna Dolores moved her chair with the least show of uneasiness. The movement attracted Mr. Perkins' attention. It was something novel. Here was a woman who appeared actually annoyed that her claim to a valuable property was valid. He fixed his eyes upon her curiously.
"Then you think it is a genuine grant?" she said, with a slight sigh.
"As genuine as any that receive a patent at Washington," he replied, promptly.
"Ah!" said Donna Dolores, simply. The feminine interjection appeared to put a construction upon Señor Perkins' reply that both annoyed and challenged him. He assumed the defensive.
"Have you any reason to doubt the genuineness of this particular document?"
"Yes. It was only recently discovered among Don José's papers, and there is another in existence."
Señor Perkins again reached out his hand, took the paper, examined it attentively, held it to the light and then laid it down. "It is all right," he said. "Where is the other?"
"I have it not," said Donna Dolores.