“What are you referring to?” interrogates the doctor.
“The thing you’re thinking of at this moment, amigo mio. I’ll make a wager it’s the same.”
“As you know, colonel, I never bet.”
“Nor I upon a certainty, as in this case it would be. I know what your mind’s bent upon—tobacco.”
“I confess it, colonel. I want a smoke, bad as ever I did in my life.”
“Sol.”
“But why don’t you both have it, then?”
It is Adela who thus innocently interrogates.
“For the best of all reasons,” rejoins her brother. “We haven’t the wherewith.”
“What! no cigarittos? I saw some yesterday on one of the shelves.”