Don Antonio said nothing about Savoy,
but after the usual preliminaries, which a Spaniard never omits,
plunged into a long harangue upon the comity which, now that
peace reigned, should exist between the two nations. For some
time I waited patiently to learn what he would be at; but he
seemed to be lost in his own eloquence, and at last I took him
up.
"All this is very well, M. d'Evora," I said. "I quite agree with
you that the times are changed, that amity is not the same thing
as war, and that a grain of sand in the eye is unpleasant," for
he had said all of these things. "But I fail, being a plain man
and no diplomatist, to see what you want me to do."
"It is the smallest matter," he said, waving his hand gracefully.
"And yet," I retorted, "you seem to find a difficulty in coming
at it."
"As you do at the grain of sand in the eye," he answered wittily.
"After all, however, in what you say, M. de Rosny, there is some
truth. I feel that I am, on delicate ground; but I am sure that
you will pardon me.
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