Uncle Hormiga, with a wink of his little gray eyes, responded, dwelling upon every word:
"Well, that arrangement does not suit me."
"I would do the work for very little—almost nothing."
"Now it would suit me less than before."
The so-called Jaime Olot was puzzled not a little by the mysterious answers of Uncle Juan Gomez, and he tried to get some clue to their meaning from the expression of his face; but as he was unsuccessful in his efforts to read the fox-like countenance of his honor, he added, with feigned naturalness:
"It would not displease me, either, to repair a part of the old building and to live there, cultivating the ground that you had intended for a cattle-yard. I will buy from you, then, the Moor's Tower with the ground around it."
"I do not wish to sell it," responded Uncle Hormiga.
"But I will pay you double what it is worth!" said the self-styled Catalan emphatically.
"It would suit me now less than ever to sell it," replied the Andalusian, with so crafty and insulting a look that his interlocutor took a step backward, suddenly becoming conscious that he was treading on false ground.
He reflected for a moment, therefore, and then raising his head with a determined air, and clasping his hands behind his back, he said, with a cynical laugh: