This seemed sensible, and I was silent.

Soon afterwards he presented me with a box of cigars and a very pretty amber mouthpiece.

The cigars were real Havanas, such as I had not smoked for years, and must have cost a great deal.
"You may not be aware, Sor Cornelio," he said one evening, as he mixed the oil and vinegar with the salad, at supper, "that I am now a rich man, or soon shall be.

An agent from the London opera has offered me twenty thousand francs for the season in London this spring." "Twenty thousand francs!" I cried, in amazement.

"You must be dreaming, Nino.