Sebastião declared that he did not understand politics, but he saw things that distressed him. The cigar-makers, for instance, earned barely nine or ten reals a day; and this state of things, with a family to provide for, was pitiable.
“It is infamous!” interrupted Julião, shrugging his shoulders.
“There are not enough schools,” resumed Sebastião, timidly.
“A piece of stupidity on the part of the government,” said Julião.
Savedra, occupied in eating, was silent; he had unbuttoned his shirt-collar; his countenance wore the red hue of satiety, and he smiled vaguely.
“And the lunatics of S. Bento!” exclaimed Julião.
But the counsellor interposed,—
“Let us speak of something else, my friends. It would be more becoming to us as Portuguese gentlemen and loyal subjects.” And turning to Jorge he asked him how the interesting Donna Luiza was.
She had been rather indisposed for some days past, Jorge said; but it was nothing of consequence,—the change of seasons, a little debility—
Savedra put down his glass, and said,—