Carolina. That was not your brother's opinion. He thought very highly of Florencio.
Eudosia. Very highly. Our poor, dear brother! Among his other abilities he certainly had an extraordinary aptitude for allowing himself to be deceived.
Carolina. That assumption is offensive to me; it is unfair to all of us.
Eudosia. I hope you brought it with you, Paquita?
Paquita. Yes; here it is.
[Taking out a book.]
Eudosia. Just look through this book if you have a moment. It arrived to-day from Madrid and is on sale at Valdivieso's. Just glance through it.
Carolina. What is the book? [Reading the title upon the cover.] "Don Patricio Molinete, the Man and His Work. A Biography. Together with His Correspondence and an Estimate of His Life." Why, thanks—
Paquita. No, do not thank us. Read, read what our poor brother has written to the author of this book, who was one of his intimate friends.
Carolina. Recaredo Casalonga. Ah! I remember—a rascal we were obliged to turn out of the house. Do you mean to say that scamp Casalonga has any letters? Merely to hear the name makes me nervous.