“I’ll tell you. The Aldao family honor me with many confidences, and that’s the way I come to know so much about those details. And how do you get on with your studies? I know also that you are very assiduous, and have a brilliant future before you. And I am very glad to make your acquaintance. I say so sincerely, for I am not in the habit of paying compliments. But you don’t know my name yet. I didn’t tell you, because a poor friar does not need to introduce himself, as his habit is a sufficient introduction. My name is Silvestre Moreno, your humble servant.”
“And my name is Salustio——”
“Yes, I know, I know. Salustio Meléndez Unceta.”
“I see that you know everything.”
“I wish I did,” replied the friar, with a good-natured laugh; and then stopping suddenly, he said to me imploringly:
“Couldn’t you do me the favor to give me a cigarette?”
“I don’t smoke,” I answered, with a certain hauteur, which afterward seemed absurd to me.
“You are quite right; one need the less. But I, oh, dear, I am so corrupted that—well, never mind, I must have patience till we get to Tejo.”
“How long is it since you have smoked?”
“Heigh, ho, since yesterday afternoon. I have been staying at the house of an old lady in Pontevedra, who is a very respectable widow and lives there all alone. And you can well understand that neither she nor her maid smoke. I cut myself, when I was shaving in the morning, as I had a saw instead of a razor, and that lady was so kind, that she bought me a little English razor, fine enough to cut a thought; here it is,” he added, pointing up his sleeve. “I haven’t used it yet. So you see, after that present, which must have cost her considerable, I couldn’t be mean enough to ask her for money for tobacco.”