“If I had not wished to give, I would have sought another reply,” said an old general—uncle to ours—who had lost a leg in the battle of Bailen.
“General,” replied the narrator, “among us, I have not is synonymous
with I will not; even sucking-babes understand it.”
“A synonym which Huertas has omitted, but which is known in these days, even in the Batuecas,” chimed the repeater.
“It could not have existed when he composed his work,” said the general.
“The fellow,” proceeded the narrator, “begged and implored, lowering his demand to the most insignificant sum. I was as inexorable as destiny.” And the millionaire cast around him a look worthy of Cato.
“He was, then, in real need, and not an impostor?” questioned the old general.
“O sir!—general rule—every one that asks is an impostor.”
“Unless he is an intimate friend,” said Boni, speaking this time with unaccustomed personality.
“Ma foi,”[59] answered the Gaulish Spaniard, “I except no one. Seeing that he was not going to desist, and always with the amiability and delicacy that must be used in such cases—”