A morning whet, Samoval?" O'Moy invited him, taking up the
decanter.
"Two fingers, then - no more. It is not my custom in the morning.
But here - to drink your lady's health, and yours, Miss Armytage."
With a graceful flourish of his glass he pledged them both and
sipped delicately, then took the chair that O'Moy was proffering.
"Good news, I hear, General. Antonio de Souza's removal from the
Government is already bearing fruit. The mills in the valley of
the Mondego are being effectively destroyed at last."
"Ye're very well informed," grunted O'Moy, who himself had but
received the news. "As well informed, indeed, as I am myself."
There was a note almost of suspicion in the words, and he was vexed
that matters which it was desirable be kept screened as much as
possible from general knowledge should so soon be put abroad.
"Naturally, and with reason," was the answer, delivered with a
rueful smile. "Am I not interested? Is not some of my property
in question?" Samoval sighed. "But I bow to the necessities of
war. At least it cannot be said of me, as was said of those whose
interests Souza represented, that I put private considerations
above public duty - that is the phrase, I think.
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