“There it is again,” cried the portly lady; “always these creoles! No Indian understands anything about revolution. Train crows, and they’ll pick your eyes out!”
“Do you know what I’ve heard?” asked a pretty creole, to turn the conversation. “The wife of Captain Tinong—you remember? We danced and dined at his house at the fête of Tondo—well, the wife of Captain Tinong gave the captain-general, this afternoon, a ring worth a thousand pesos. She said it was a Christmas present.”
“Christmas doesn’t come for a month.”
“She must have feared a downpour,” said the stout lady.
“And so got under cover,” said the slim.
“That is evident,” said the one-armed man, thoughtfully. “I fear there is something back of this.”
“I also,” said the portly lady. “The wife of Captain Tinong is very parsimonious—she has never sent us presents, though we have been to her house. When such a person lets slip a little present of a thousand little pesos——”
“But is it certain?” demanded the one-armed man.
“Absolutely! His excellency’s aide-de-camp told my cousin, to whom he is engaged. I’m tempted to believe it’s a ring she wore the day of the fête. She’s always covered with diamonds.”
“That’s one way of advertising! Instead of buying a lay-figure or renting a shop——”