“While I myself might marry her,” interrupted the Spaniard. “Is that what you mean to say? Suppose I have no wish to get married. I had that desire long ago, like the rest of the world. My history has been like a great many others; that is, my sweetheart married another. It is true I adopted the means to re—to console myself, and quickly too,” added Arechiza, with a dark scowl. “But who do you think I am, Don Vicente Tragaduros?”
“Who are you! why; Don Estevan de Arechiza, of course!”
“That does honour to your penetration,” said the Spaniard, with a disdainful smile. “Well, then, since I have already demanded the hand of Doña Rosarita for the illustrious senator Tragaduros y Despilfarro, of course I cannot now take his place.”
“But why, señor, did you not make the demand on your own account?”
“Why, because, my dear friend, were this young lady three times as beautiful, and three times as rich as she is, she would neither be beautiful enough nor rich enough for me!”
Despilfarro started with astonishment.
“Eh! and who are you then, señor, may I ask in my turn?”
“Only, as you have said, Don Estevan Arechiza,” coolly replied the Spaniard.
The Senator made three or four turns across the room before he could collect his thoughts; but in obedience to the distrust that had suddenly sprung up within him, he resumed:
“There is something in all this I cannot explain, and when I can’t explain a thing I can’t understand it.”