“You are satisfied about the original debt, Señhor Condé?” at last said he, after a “four-mile heat” of explanation.
“Most thoroughly,” said I, bowing.
“You'd not wish for anything farther on that head?”
“Not a syllable.”
“And as to the Cuba instalment, you see the way in which the first scrip became entangled in the Chihuahua 'fives,' don't you?”
“Plain as my hand before me.”
“Then, of course, you acknowledge our right to the reserve fund?”
“I don't see how it can be disputed,” said I.
“And yet that is precisely what the Madrid Government contest!”
“What injustice!” exclaimed I.