"You have everything, eh?" Mr. Carbajal teetered upon the balls of his feet while his small black eyes roved inquisitively.
"Everything in abundance."
"There is water, eh?" The proprietor peered dutifully into the pitcher, incidentally taking stock of O'Reilly's toilet articles.
"A veritable ocean of it."
"One never knows. These servants are so lazy. But—your other baggage, your trunk?"
"I have no trunk."
"So? I took you to be a great traveler."
"I am."
"Selling goods, eh?"
"No."