Briquet
You are right, Jim! It is not work any more. To your health, old comrade, Jackson.
Jackson
To yours, Louis.
Briquet
It is not work any more, since these Barons came here! Do you hear? They are laughing. But I am indignant, I am indignant, Jim! What do they want here, these Barons? Let them steal hens in other hen roosts, and leave us in peace. Ah! Had I been Secretary of the Interior, I should have made an iron fence between us and those people.
Jackson
I am very sorry myself for our dear little Consuelo. I don't know why, but it seems to me that we all look to-day more like swindlers than honest artists. Don't you think so, Zinida?
Zinida
Everybody does what he wants. It's Consuelo's business and her father's.