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.