against the Chinese competition that is ruining his business. The
one over there, that thin, brown individual with a sharp look and a
pale smile, is the celebrated originator of the dispute over Mexican
pesos, which so troubled one of Quiroga's protéges: that government
clerk is regarded in Manila as very clever. That one farther on, he
of the frowning look and unkempt mustache, is a government official
who passes for a most meritorious fellow because he has the courage
to speak ill of the business in lottery tickets carried on between
Quiroga and an exalted dame in Manila society. The fact is that
two thirds of the tickets go to China and the few that are left in
Manila are sold at a premium of a half-real. The honorable gentleman
entertains the conviction that some day he will draw the first prize,
and is in a rage at finding himself confronted with such tricks.

The dinner, meanwhile, was drawing to an end. From the dining-room
floated into the sala snatches of toasts, interruptions, bursts and
ripples of laughter. The name of Quiroga was often heard mingled with
the words "consul," "equality," "justice." The amphitryon himself
did not eat European dishes, so he contented himself with drinking
a glass of wine with his guests from time to time, promising to dine
with those who were not seated at the first table.

Simoun, who was present, having already dined, was in the sala talking
with some merchants, who were complaining of business conditions:
everything was going wrong, trade was paralyzed, the European exchanges
were exorbitantly high. They sought information from the jeweler
or insinuated to him a few ideas, with the hope that these would be
communicated to the Captain-General. To all the remedies suggested
Simoun responded with a sarcastic and unfeeling exclamation about
nonsense, until one of them in exasperation asked him for his opinion.